<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>DVD Commentary: Filming into the Night by Stelia22</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311273">DVD Commentary: Filming into the Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelia22/pseuds/Stelia22'>Stelia22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Filming into the Night [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelia22/pseuds/Stelia22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every production has its ups and downs. Here’s the making of my Jackvin College AU, Filming into the Night.</p><p>Or: A story breakdown/DVD-commentary of my Jackvin College AU, Filming into the Night.</p><p>***Re-written on 20.11.20 in light of recent events.***</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gavin Free/Jack Pattillo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Filming into the Night [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. BTS: Pre-production</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795543">Filming into the Night</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stelia22/pseuds/Stelia22">Stelia22</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks for reading =). These are all the things I was trying to do while writing this story, and I would love to hear your thoughts about it. And if you guys have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.</p><p>Note: This fic was inspired by many other AH fics, however all references to them have been removed from this commentary in case their authors do not want them mentioned in light of everything. Unfortunately, this includes mentions of the fic that heavily inspired the overall idea and several elements of this fic (mature aged students, partner project, etc.). Nonetheless, I’m honoured to have been able to read and draw inspiration from such wonderful writers of days past. I hope this fic can be similar for you.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Full of spoilers, references to other online articles/YouTube videos/a couple of my own fics, and (hopefully) fun and insight.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin doesn’t know anyone in his cinematography class, he’s late to his computer lab and the last seat is next to this ginger bearded older guy (there’s <em>grey </em>in his beard, Christ). <strong>I spent a long time trying to make this sentence flow well, but this was as good as it would get while having Gavin’s voice via the internal thought process of, ‘there’s grey in his beard, Christ’. </strong>Definitely a mature aged student, then.</p><p>Thing is, Gavin doesn't hate older people. People going back to uni when they're older - awesome, good on them, education, good shit. <strong>I wanted to establish early on that Gavin doesn’t actually hate mature aged students; it’s just the behaviours <em>associated </em>with them (smug, arrogant, etc.) that he hates. </strong>But mature aged students are a special kind of hell, especially in group projects. And considering this is cinematography, collaborative anything is the name of the game.</p><p>He’s just slumped into his chair when the tutor tells them to pair up with people.</p><p>For a partner project. <strong>i.e. The most personalized kind of group work and lots of time alone together, and therefore perfect for a (relatively) rapidly developing romance.</strong></p><p>Shit.</p><p>There's someone else next to Gavin, someone who actually looks like they were born this century, but as Gavin turns to them, they've already turned to their friend next to them and paired up, so that's out. Everyone is quickly pairing off, and Gavin thinks of standing up and just wandering around the room in hopes of finding someone because if he's stuck with one more mature aged student – <strong>Thing is, Gavin learns later on that in order to have this dilemma in the first place, he needs to have worked with a lot of mature aged students – which he <em>has</em>, and that alone is rare.</strong></p><p>"Hey, do you want to work together?"</p><p>Gavin jumps because that’s a really deep voice from right next to him. But he looks over and it's the ginger bearded guy, who here’s for Christmas presents, apparently. <strong>Jack’s hair is technically auburn, but Gavin has only ever described him as <em>ginger </em>in videos<em>, </em>so that’s what I went with. And Jack’s the most Santa guy ever (temperament and appearance) so I had to chuck something in. </strong>And <em>Christ</em>, of course this group project bullshit is happening all over again.</p><p>Gavin sneaks one last look around the room, and sure enough everyone’s already paired off, chattering away with their partners because they were smart enough to have friends in this course.</p><p>"Fine, sure, whatever."</p><p>"What the - OK?" the guy splutters like he was about to protest, but then reigned it in. <strong>Jack is used to people not wanting to work with him, whether that be because he’s more serious or much older than them, but this is the first time he’s been faced with open hostility (i.e. snippy), so he is Not Happy. </strong>After a moment, he says, " 'Hi, I'm Jack, nice to meet you.' " There's bite to it and that surprises Gavin more than anything, because honestly?</p><p>This guy looks like the most placid version of a lumberjack Santa to ever exist.</p><p>And the thing is, Gavin didn't mean to be so rude. It's just –</p><p>Groups projects with mature age students always descend into them bragging about all the <em>experience</em> they have, all the extra work they did, throwing around industry lingo and key buzzwords to make themselves seem smart. They’re completely dismissive of Gavin and his input, never trusting him with anything, always thinking they know better because they filmed a couple of amateur projects all by themselves last summer. They’re smug, uptight, condescending buzzkills and Gavin hates group projects with them more than anything.</p><p>
  <strong>I kept worrying that this was too much of an info-dump, but I also wanted it to be clear why Gavin hates group projects with the types of mature aged students he’s worked with in the past. I wanted Jack’s actions to directly address these fears; to either oppose them (e.g. Jack is not dismissive of Gavin at all), or fulfill them (e.g. uptight) but do so because he’s <em>passionate</em>, not out of maliciousness. Wasn’t able to sling industry lingo around, though, mostly because I don’t know any myself.</strong>
</p><p>Jack looks like every one of those people.</p><p>"You ever meet someone named Glen Coco?" Gavin says, because he's always been good at putting his foot in his mouth. He waves a hand at Jack’s face. "You’re all Santa and shit." <strong>Gavin’s not even phased by Jack’s barely tamped annoyance, whereas other people would have taken offence to it. In my head, that’s what first causes Jack to reconsider him, at least briefly.</strong></p><p>The tutor says the usual spiel about making sure they have their partner's email so that they can work on the project, how if you don't like your partner you can make a complaint (that the higher-ups never actually look at), and how they can't just fodder off the time. <strong>Apparently some lecturers aren’t helpful or don’t respond to emails which. Yikes. Not that it matters here, but still. </strong>Gavin's not going to have that problem, that's for sure. Can't fodder off if your partner is the my-way-or-the-highway type. <strong>Jack doesn’t fodder off, but Gavin will soon learn that it’s because Jack is a very All Business kind of guy, no funny business, just down to business.</strong></p><p>He starts tuning out the rest only to realise that Jack’s staring at him, eyebrows raised. Why is he – oh. Right. Should probably introduce himself. People look for that, don’t they? <strong>I tried to make this trail off into a stream of consciousness, which I feel is pretty in-character for Gavin.</strong></p><p>"I'm Gavin," he says. "Email's fine, by the way." He tears off a corner from a page in his brand new notebook <strong>unused, even two weeks in, because <em>studying </em></strong>- which earns another questioning look - before writing it down. If Gavin liked the person he was working with, text would be preferable, but email is more professional and, technically speaking, better evidence when filing a complaint. <strong>Yeah, that complaint is never mentioned again, because once they meet-up the first time there’s literally no reason for Gavin to make one.</strong></p><p>They exchange emails, and Gavin turns away to read the project brief. Short film, twenty minutes, must incorporate a given list of film techniques, a lot of locations and must have the workload of a five-person crew, to simulate the experience of people bailing at the last minute.</p><p>
  <strong>Since I have never studied film, I spent a while agonizing over the assignment, because completing it is the main plot of the story. I knew I wanted a short film, and to have it simulate the experience of people bailing at the last minute so that it could be a partner project, and lots of locations so they’d have to spend more time together (scouting, filming), but how long would the short film be?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>From my research, most short films are actually ten minutes, but I was concerned that those who haven’t studied film would read ‘ten minutes’ and be like, ‘oh, that’s not much’. But I was worried that if I said twenty minutes, the people who <em>have</em> studied film would be like, ‘that’s way too long, the films in short film festivals are all ten minutes or shorter’ and, ‘you know the markers are going to have to watch all of these, right?’ I settled on twenty minutes, because to me, the impact of a big-sounding project was more important than full realism.</strong>
</p><p>It's worth <em>half </em>of his final mark. And it's with someone who will probably fuck him over (made worse because he seems perfectly nice now, but it's always the nice ones that turn out the worst, isn't it?).</p><p>
  <strong>I wrote (and kept) almost the entire first draft of this first scene, which I wrote on ao3 (like, literally the ao3 text editor, whereas I normally write on Word) one night in a daze, without stopping, then immediately posted it to ao3 as a separate extract. At that point, I hadn’t written anything in 3.5 years (for any fandom), and even now I have no idea how I did it. Then a lovely reader commented on the extract, and three months later, the rest is history.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>They decide to work in Jack’s apartment just off-campus because this is a big project and they both have busy schedules since filming projects for other classes takes a long time. Fine by Gavin to work in Jack’s place – he sure as hell isn’t going to let anyone into his dorm room.</p><p>Or it would be, if it wasn't for the repeated thudding from behind Jack’s door.</p><p>Figures. First time Gavin goes to work on a new project and his ‘teammate’ has someone <em>over</em>. <strong>I wanted something to break the tension from the first scene, and I figured that Gavin thinking that Jack was banging someone when he’s not was as good as any, and it also allowed me to have them find out they both play video games (not just shooters, either). </strong>It’s happened to him often enough that he can tell that it’s stuff banging against a coffee table. <strong>Seriously, Gavin’s been through a <em>lot </em>with group projects. </strong>He listens out for moans or cries from either Jack or whoever the hell he’s got in there. What would Jack’s moans sound like, anyway? <strong>There’s Gavin’s I-saw-this-thing-and-it-reminded-me-of-this-other-thing-ness again. </strong>Would they be deep – well of course they’d be deep, his voice was – but would they be low and stifled due to the thin walls of the apartment building, or loud in pleasure, or –</p><p>There’s a huff from behind the door. Gavin curses, and quickly knocks on the door to stop his own train of thought. Even interrupting a shagging session involving his new ‘teammate’ is better than whatever he’s thinking. <strong>I wanted to use ‘teammate’ in quotation marks to show how jaded Gavin is from past group projects.</strong></p><p>A curse, a toss of something against the coffee table, a huff, and eventually, the opening of the door.</p><p>Jack’s face is flushed and sweaty. <strong>Yeah, I was really trying to lay the idea of Jack banging someone just then real thick. </strong>“Hey, it’s Gavin, right?” he says quickly, all business-y, like he hadn’t just made <em>noises </em>seconds ago. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”</p><p>“Oh!” Gavin says, because what else can he say to a 180 like that? “Sure?”</p><p>Jack’s apartment block is one of those freshly built modern ones, and his apartment reflects that; it’s a small but tidy IKEA store of modern, minimal furnishings. A sofa and coffee table in the living room lead to the dining room and kitchen, all sleek clean lines and shiny surfaces. It’s all very white. Some joke Michael made about waking up in a room of white and the international date line comes to mind. <strong>I intentionally mis-referenced the joke Lindsay mangled and Michael explained, because Gavin’s memory can be kind of shit. </strong>Jack seems similarly out of place here. Not that it isn’t his place. It’s just that Gavin gets the impression that sleek and modern isn’t really Jack’s style. He seems more like a rustic, everything-is-wood kind of guy. <strong>Gavin’s already getting his subject framing/location-scout mind on, in that he thinks Jack literally does not fit in with his surroundings. I chose an ultra-modern barren apartment with this detachment in mind, because student accommodation (at least in Australia) is all ultra-modern and stuff.</strong></p><p>Wood. Which reminds him. Gotta make sure he doesn’t sit in any jizz or something, since whoever was here isn’t anymore. That’s when he notices the TV in the living room. Which has a bunch of motorcycles on the screen and very familiar physics.</p><p>“Is that <em>Trials Rising?</em>” Gavin exclaims before he can stop himself.</p><p>“Sorry,” Jack jumps up and turns off the TV. <strong>Jack’s like, ‘Shit, I’m being unprofessional, and you’re probably going to scorn me for playing video games.</strong></p><p>“No, I – ” Gavin breaks off. When Jack pauses to consider him, remote still in hand, Gavin adds, “I play Trials too. Played the whole series.” He notices that the TV stands on a rotated bookshelf and that there’s a bunch of Xbox games stacked there. “I didn’t know you played video games.”</p><p>He doesn’t know why he’s trying to be reassuring. Maybe it’s the apprehension on Jack’s face, like he thinks…like he thinks Gavin would hate him. And he does, but it’s not because he <em>plays video games</em>.<strike></strike></p><p>Jack flushes, of all things. <strong>Jack is an older gamer, and for him there’s a lot of self-consciousness that comes with that. He’s exactly in-between the school-leavers and other mature aged students, and therefore fits with neither – at this point, he’s under the impression that Gavin’s like every other school-leaver he doesn’t connect with. And this is the first time Jack’s encountered someone – <em>anyone </em>– who both plays video games and not just shooters. </strong>He tosses the remote onto the coffee table where, to Gavin’s shock, there’s an Xbox controller. Thankfully, it’s not purple and orange like Jeremy’s monstrosities. <strong>A casual name-drop to show that even with Gavin’s terrible group project experiences, not everything’s been bad.</strong></p><p>No lube, though, or any other shagging supplies.</p><p>“What were you doing, before I knocked on the door?” Gavin blurts out. At Jack’s confused look, he adds, “I heard banging. And. Stuff.” <strong>Gavin often unintentionally says stuff that sounds like innuendoes and this was my way of trying to emulate that.</strong></p><p>Now that he says it out aloud it just sounds really awkward, a perfect match to Jack’s disbelieving chuckle.</p><p>“Sorry, I was just banging my controller against the table because I was trying to complete an extreme level and I kept missing a particular jump.”</p><p>“Oh. Right.” Because even Gavin knows not to say what he had thought was going on. He chances a cursory glance around him, just to make sure, and everything checks out. Video games, not shagging. Right. “Some of those extreme levels are really hard.” <em>Ha, </em>hard. “They’re great – just, really hard.”</p><p>Jack smiles. “Trials is my favourite video game series. But we should get to work. Is the dining room OK?”</p><p>Gavin looks over at the dining table. It’s on the small side, but it doesn’t wobble and is impeccably clean. He’d have taken it if it’d just been the second. <strong>Nothing like terrible group projects to give you reasonable/low expectations. </strong>“Sure.”</p><hr/><p>The project requirements are substantial. Tell a traditional three-act narrative (i.e. a <em>script</em>) using cinematography techniques. The list of required techniques cover shot sizes and angles, and lighting types. Other film techniques – such as shot composition, camera framing and focus – are their own choice: in other words, only choose techniques that serve the story, and not have an ounce of fun with it.</p><p>
  <strong>When I initially wrote this, I specifically stated, ‘three-act narrative’ because I incorrectly assumed that not all short films have a beginning, middle and end, and figured that the uni markers would want the students to show that they could film a beginning, middle and ending of a film.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Then I learnt that short films <em>do </em>have beginnings, middles and ends – just not in the same way as feature films do (turning points 1 and 2, subplots, etc.). However, I kept the requirement of a traditional three-act narrative for two reasons: 1) to make the workload higher meaning more time spent together; and 2) because apparently film school focusses on teaching people to make feature films even though most students only have the budget for shorts.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Also, I wanted to detail the exact types of techniques prescribed to them, both for the reader and myself, so that I could keep track of what to cover while writing this story. There is a <em>lot </em>to filmmaking, as it turns out. And I’d found some sample cinematography assignments online, too, a lot of which were even more specific, having prescribed types of shots/scenes (e.g. time-lapse, two-person conversation with flashback), so it worked out nicely.</strong>
</p><p>“The phrase is, ‘Choose the cinematography techniques that you think are most appropriate for the subject and story you’re filming.’,” Jack recites, because apparently he swallowed the textbook force-fed to every first-year cinematography student. <strong>I wanted it to flow naturally from Gavin’s thoughts to a conversation, and it was also a chance to show-case how serious and by-the-book Jack is. And if anyone could memorise a quote from a textbook, it’d be Jack. </strong>And because Gavin had said all that out aloud. “There’s reasons for that, you know.”</p><p>“Oh, for sure. But they’re asking us for so many types of shots and lighting that they’re asking us to make a film like it’s a feature length one rather than a short one. With a two-person crew.”</p><p>“And the workload of five,” Jack adds unhelpfully.</p><p>
  <strong>When I googled, ‘how many people do you need for a film crew?’ I found out about skeleton crews for low-budget feature films, split into categories: 1-2 people, 5-7 people, then 15+. Five to seven is ideal, because apparently feeding fifteen crew members for ten days of filming costs like $50K (seriously, wtf???). And while 1-2 person crews are possible, they’re tough to handle because they’re juggling so many duties at once; one person as a director/cinematographer/producer and the second person as a sound-recordist/co-producer/co-writer, or a similar combination.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Coincidentally, Jack and Gavin end up falling almost perfectly into those roles without even really talking about it, with Jack as director/co-cinematographer/producer/writer and Gavin as cinematographer/sound-recordist/co-producer/co-writer.</strong>
</p><p>“Writing the script alone will be a problem. The longest they’ve asked for before is ten minutes.”</p><p>“I’ll write up the script, don’t worry,” Jack says so confidently that Gavin can’t help but accept it.</p><p>“Sweet.”</p><p>That’s one thing out of the way, at least; Gavin had thought for sure that he’d have to handle it, since that’s how these things usually went, regardless of who he worked with.</p><p>“What ideas do you have for the film?” Jack asks.</p><p>Gavin pauses.</p><p>Normally that would be an off-hand question. And it still is; Jack’s probably just being nice. But most people put their own ideas forward first, then ask for others as an afterthought. It’s rare that Gavin gets asked for ideas first.</p><p>So rare that he hadn’t bothered to prepare any, knowing that they would inevitably get steam-rolled over the next day.</p><p>
  <strong>This is arguably the most important moment, in the most important scene, of the story. The first where they start working together. Where the foundations of their entire relationship, working and romantic, would be established. Where apprehension shifts towards respect, and I knew that it had to be for good reason. I eventually figured that Jack asking Gavin for ideas first was both a very Jack thing to do and something that would take Gavin completely by surprise, so it worked out. Before this, I’d written several versions of the scene, none of which included this, but we’ll get to that later.</strong>
</p><p>“I don’t usually get asked first,” he replies awkwardly. “Um…what ideas do you have?”</p><p>But Jack shakes his head. “I want to get your input first.”</p><p>His gaze is steady, like he asks people this all the time and they all react the same way Gavin does.</p><p>Gavin’s brain short-circuits.</p><p>Well. If he insists.</p><p>Gavin quickly looks over the brief again. It says that the film needs to be about evolution, growth and making the mundane beautiful. There are prompts at the bottom for inspiration.</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted the short film to be about something related to the romance (like those stories where actors fall in love while filming romance movies). Evolution and growth is a reference to Gavin and Jack’s growing love and respect for each other as they work together. Making the mundane beautiful is a reference to a cinematography assignment I found online, one about place and space, ‘where cinematographers are able to make even the most mundane things look beautiful’. That assignment also had prompts at the bottom, words for themes if the students were stuck.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin tends to think in terms of visuals, not writing, so he fires off some ideas based on the picture prompts, which are of a sprouting plant and a plaza lit up at night. Of plants growing on top of people’s heads like the potted plant character in the game <em>Moving Out. </em><strong>I realise this seems like an anachronism since <em>Moving Out </em>was released in April 2020 and this is set in a Fall semester (September onwards), but the trailer for <em>Moving Out </em>was released in August 2019, so that’s what I went by instead. </strong>Of a spy hunting down a traitor in a city. Just one sentence things to test the waters. <strong>Gavin reaching out, tentatively, like a sprouting plant trying to kiss the sun.<strike></strike></strong></p><p>Jack looks…contemplative. Like he’s actually considering his ideas. He doesn’t look annoyed, or angry, or even like he’s pretending to like his ideas but actually thinks that they’re scum.</p><p>Jack says that he likes the spy idea best. He explains that even though he likes the plant idea, potted plants – even foam ones – might become heavy when left on actors’ heads for hours, and that with extra parts of costumes maintaining continuity between takes would be more difficult.</p><p>He’s thinking ahead. He’s thinking of the actors. <strong>Jack is a sweet, considerate, caring guy, so I figured this would be in-character for him. </strong>Gavin can’t remember the last time anyone did either. And they’re good points.</p><p>But when Jack asks him for more details about the spy idea, like how he’ll make the mundane beautiful – beyond the cinematography – and how he’ll incorporate the themes of evolution and growth, Gavin isn’t sure.</p><p>
  <strong>I grappled with whether the assumption of evolution, growth etc. as <em>themes </em>was appropriate (we’ll get to why later), but eventually figured that due to the previous information provided about the project, the assumption of those things as themes is not only appropriate, but the first and only reasonable conclusion that could be drawn.</strong>
</p><p>Jack writes the idea down anyway.</p><p>“So what ideas do you have?” Gavin says.</p><p>Jack flips his notebook back to the previous page, and Gavin’s eyes widen at the copious notes he’s written down.</p><p>Jack admits that he’s not entirely sure what they mean by evolution since they didn’t define it in the brief; did they mean evolution biology (“Darwin,” Jack explains at Gavin’s confused look), or did it mean the same as growth, or did it mean the ‘evolution’ of cinematography <strong>‘evolution’ is in quotation marks here because I learnt from the cinematography assignments I found online that just because <em>time </em>has moved forward doesn’t mean <em>cinematography </em>itself has</strong>, or did it mean something else? So he came up with ideas for each: A <em>Planet of the Apes </em>sort of thing; a day-in-the-life of someone who either grows daily from it or stagnates because of it; and a parallel story contrasting two similar people in different times and using that to explore different eras of cinematography.</p><p>Even then, there are subcategories – evolution means the gradual development of something, Jack says, googling it on his laptop to prove it – so another idea is a receptionist who becomes overwhelmed when they suddenly take on too many responsibilities, and using that to show the value of gaining them gradually instead; the ‘mundane’. The underlying stories of each of his ideas would be about characters growing to appreciate mundane things, or vice versa despite the potential consequences.</p><p>
  <strong>Ah yes. The main difficulty of this scene: showing that Jack is pedantic. I’d juggled several ways of showing that: first, it was Jack and Gavin debating about what <em>evolution </em>means, then it was Jack writing down a bunch of ideas but asking for more anyway and Gavin joking that they already have enough, surely? which ended up sounding insensitive, and Jack asking whether they were meant to incorporate evolution, growth, etc. as themes or not and them emailing the lecturer about it.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Debating ended up being close but no dice. I wanted to have conflict between them and for them to work through it, as an establishment of the communication lines between them. But something felt off (if both of them had multiple ideas on what evolution meant, wouldn’t that imply that Jack and Gavin are both equally pedantic? Which is not what I want), so I tried the other ideas above.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I didn’t go with the third idea because I didn’t want their mutual respect for each other to depend upon whether an arbitrary lecturer replied to them or not – because what if the lecturer never did reply, just like it’s implied in the first scene where the higher-ups never actually read complaints?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It was only when I realized the inherent insensitiveness of the second idea, and when I re-wrote Gavin’s ideas to include the sprouting plant guy from <em>Moving Out, </em>did a solution come to mind: a monologue on the various possible definitions of evolution. And with that, this part of the scene finally came together.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Yes, part. Because a lot happens in this scene, enough that I had to split it into two in my mind.</strong>
</p><p>It's a lot.</p><p>It’s…admirable, how much thought Jack’s put into this, even as Gavin’s head is spinning. <strong>I wanted Gavin to be overwhelmed by Jack’s thoughts and thought process but still be appreciative of it.</strong></p><p>When Jack asks him what he thinks of his ideas, Gavin takes the time to think them over. He’d never thought of evolution in those ways before and from the prompts under the brief any of them would be fine. But…</p><p>He doesn’t really like any of Jack’s ideas.</p><p>
  <strong>In in the original version of this scene, I’d had both of them like each other’s ideas, but I didn’t want their mutual respect for each other to depend on them liking each other’s ideas, because then the question would have been: what if they hadn’t? Having Gavin not like <em>any</em> of Jack’s ideas (and Jack not being yes-man to Gavin’s) was my way of addressing that.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It also allowed me to have conflict between them and for them to work through it, which was the best part of the they-debate-about-the-definition-of-evolution idea.</strong>
</p><p>The <em>Planet of the Apes </em>thing sounds like a nature documentary without David Attenborough in it. A day-in-the-life reminds him too much of endless nights spent filming peoples’ hands slamming alarm clocks and their daily routines. <strong>Student film clichés were fun to look up, and people waking up in bed is one of the most popular. </strong>Parallel stories tend to halve variety in narrative, shots and creativity because they’re essentially telling the same story twice. Filming different eras of cinematography feels too much like ‘film noir’ stuff, something else overdone in student films. And a worker staring soulfully out of windows whilst bored out of their mind is also bland and overdone, no matter how closely their introspection fits with what’s needed for the film.</p><p>They’re too <em>literal </em>in showing their respective definitions of evolution. He knows that the film has to be about evolution and growth and so on, but there are ways of having them in there without it feeling like it’s being thrown in their faces.</p><p>
  <strong>Having Gavin not like Jack’s ideas had to be for a reason, reasons that ended up being a subtle way of contrasting their perspectives and approaches to the project. And Jack going all literal with it very much fits his literal-ness in videos.</strong>
</p><p>And Gavin shouldn’t be picky – Jack’s already thought more about this project than some of Gavin’s past teammates have in other projects – but he needs to be honest with Jack. Jack has put a lot of thought into his ideas and didn’t just play yes-man to Gavin’s.</p><p>He deserves thought back, honesty at the very least, even if he doesn’t like it.</p><p>
  <strong>One of the criticisms of film school is that people are too nice about the films of their fellow peers, and are afraid of giving brutally honest but essential feedback. This is something Gavin wants to nip in the bud immediately, and Jack’s thoughtfulness about the project overshadows Gavin’s fears of irritating him.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And it’s not addressed here, because to Gavin it’s second-nature, but Gavin’s immediately able to adapt himself to Jack’s (relatively) breath-neck pace, which not everyone would be able to keep up with.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin fumbles out words about how he likes Jack’s dedication but isn’t the biggest fan of his ideas. Jack stiffens but tells him to go on. <strong>Because, well, he came up with all these ideas and someone doesn’t like them – not even <em>one </em>of them. That hurts at first, no matter how many times you hear it. And maybe part of Jack is wondering if Gavin would give reasons like, “I just don’t like it,” which is not a reason at all.</strong></p><p>So he does.</p><p>Bit by bit, Gavin tells him exactly why he doesn’t like them even though technically, they would be suitable. Jack’s lips are tight, his back ramrod straight, but he doesn’t interrupt Gavin, not even once. Gavin tries to cushion the blow, tries to be all nice about it, but from Jack’s contemplative look he seems to see through it all anyway. <strong>Jack is very perceptive and has always been able to read a room well, so I wanted to incorporate that.</strong></p><p>“Thank you, Gavin,” he says, finally, a while after Gavin’s done.</p><p>They’d both taken a minute to breathe after Gavin had explained everything; Gavin because it’d taken more courage to tell him than he’d like to admit and Jack because he was – well, he was probably thinking over what Gavin had said. <strong>Seriously, telling someone you don’t like the ideas they’ve painstakingly worked on in a group project is really scary, and is therefore something I don’t have much (i.e. any) experience in.</strong></p><p>“Thank you for being honest with me,” Jack adds after a moment. “It makes sense, what you’re saying. I agree with you. I was too – well, I got wrapped up in what <em>evolution </em>meant, and I didn’t realise that my ideas boiled down to overdone things.”</p><p>
  <strong>I think Jack admires not just Gavin’s honesty, but that he genuinely considered and thought over his ideas. This isn’t a *shrug* ‘It’ll do’ kind of response. This is attentiveness, care, <em>passion</em>. None of which Jack has encountered since he started uni. Brave, too, because I’d like to think that he could tell how hard this was for Gavin.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin’s also able to break it down past all the details and see the bigger picture, whereas most people would get distracted by the details (including Jack himself). But Gavin very literally gives him a new perspective on them.</strong>
</p><p>“They’re not just that,” Gavin says hastily, because he doesn’t want Jack to think that, either.</p><p>“I guess so. But I can see how they could become that.”</p><p>“I think the point of the project is to film a proper story in a bunch of locations. Evolution, growth – those are just guidelines for what to make the story about. It’s important, yes. Just…not so in your face, would be good.” <strong>Gavin with the big picture of it all. Though they’re working to make a…short. Picture. I guess.</strong></p><p>They go back to the spy idea. Some google searches later and they agree to focus on character evolution and to use it in the same way as growth.</p><p>
  <strong>When I Googled ‘evolution in film’, the first page I found was a Wikipedia article about Darwinian evolution in film, which threw me off completely (because when I’d come up with the idea of evolution as a theme for the film I was using it interchangeably with growth). Given that Jack Googles stuff a lot in videos, I figured that he’d get the same shock, and that’s what inspired Jack’s overthinking about the definition of evolution in the first place.</strong>
</p><p>Jack comes up with the idea of the spy being money hungry. Literal growth in money at the cost of being a good person – of evolving – Gavin says. Money-hungry to not money-hungry, Jack adds. Gavin comes up with the idea of a flash-drive, this mundane little thing containing essential blueprints and profiles for weapons stores and suppliers. Of the spy and the traitor fighting over this information.</p><p>
  <strong>It took me a while to figure out an idea that fit the required themes but didn’t take them too literally. In an (unwritten) Jackvin AU, I wanted to show the value of support class, e.g. weapon providers, vehicles, data; because those are Jack and Gavin’s specialties in video games such as GTA – like, there could not be two people in AH <em>less </em>competent with shooters. A fundamental part of support class in GTA is money laundering and intel hunting (e.g. steal flash-drive) and I suddenly thought – oh, that could work. Having the short film centered around data and a flash-drive also meant they wouldn’t have to deal with fight scenes or simulated gunplay, which is much easier production-wise.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>There’s also a deleted part of this scene where Jack comes up with the idea of the spy driving the traitor around the city so the traitor can show them the beauty in the mundane, which would have been yet another demonstration of Jack taking things too literally, but I ended up removing it. It’s now become the (as yet untitled) Jackvin detective!Jack and hacker!Gavin AU, which I wrote a separate extract for.</strong>
</p><p>At this point, Jack hesitates. He’s written all their ideas down but now he’s studying it with something a little too intense, biting his lip. He opens his mouth then snaps it shut, in a way that’s very familiar.</p><p>It’s how Gavin gets when he wants to ask a question but can’t bring himself to, when he swallows them down during group projects even when he has no idea what he needs to do, because asking would only get angry words and a rocked boat.</p><p>Gavin doesn’t want that. No matter how things go down between them.</p><p>
  <strong>This was also super important. It’s not just about <em>Gavin </em>learning to communicate; it’s about <em>Jack </em>learning to communicate as well. Jack in video games takes a long time to get things, but once he gets them he’s solid. But most of the time he’s not <em>given </em>that time, and I figured that would translate to the fast pace of group projects, where you often don’t know what’s going on but are too afraid to ask. I figured that Gavin was a similar way, so he’d be able to recognize that in Jack and bite the bullet in the head.</strong>
</p><p>“What are you thinking?” he asks, as gently as possible.</p><p>Jack hesitates. He doesn’t say anything for so long that Gavin’s about to ask again, but finally, Jack says:</p><p>“Where could we film this? It’s just – ” Jack stops himself, but Gavin nods at him to continue. “We need to film in a lot of locations, none of which can be at uni, so we need ones that are easy to get. I love this idea, don’t get me wrong. But it sounds like we need a lot of locations that aren’t readily available, like an empty warehouse for the weapons stores and a police station for the spy headquarters, so we should figure out some alternatives.”</p><p>
  <strong>The idea in my head is that past teammates have dismissed Jack’s logistical concerns, are all like, we can film guerilla-style (without filming permits), because permits are expensive (several hundred dollars per location), time-consuming (2-3 weeks to get approved…and that’s in Austin, where public filming permits are free, never-mind Los Angeles or New York) and it’s not like anybody’s around in this isolated location, right (we’re just filming a couple of quick shots on this side-road, never mind traffic; or if we’re quiet in this cheap Air BnB it’ll be fine, right? *Clatter as lights drop to the floor*).</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And a lot of people <em>do</em>, for all those reasons and more. Sometimes they <em>have </em>to. And most are able to do it without getting into trouble for it. So they’d probably give empty platitudes of <em>it’ll be fine. </em>But Jack’s the kind of person who would want to do everything as legally as possible.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin doesn’t just tolerate Jack’s approach. He <em>respects </em>it. (He <em>understands</em> it).</strong>
</p><p>“We’d just need a big empty indoor space and a somewhere with computers and interview rooms, like an office with conference rooms or something,” Gavin answers easily. He knows some people can be demanding about locations – the flipside is those who don’t care at all <strong>cheers to Gus Johnson’s YouTube video ‘every student film set’ and the ‘director’ saying to a completely empty room, ‘I know the set is looking a little bare…that’s okay, I’ll just add a bunch of plants and furniture in post’ </strong>– so he understands Jack’s concern.</p><p>“Aren’t offices with conference rooms the same as classrooms and meeting rooms at uni, none of which we’re allowed to use?”</p><p>“No. And if it is, screw it. Offices are generic and they’re already asking us to not film on campus or within half a mile on it. Most people won’t be able to use their own places, so they’ll be turning to wherever they work or places their friends know. An office building would be good; we could use different offices and conference rooms as the spy headquarters and the mainframe where the intel comes from.” <strong>Cheers to Octopunk Media’s fan-made film Detroit: Evolution (based on the game Detroit: Become Human) and all their BTS videos, including using classrooms/offices as detective headquarters.</strong></p><p>“Isn’t the whole point of the project to film in a variety of locations, rather than fake locations as somewhere they’re not?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I think it’s more about trying to get people outside, since most people just film in their dorm rooms and stuff. If we can’t get a big indoor space and an office, we can always relocate wherever we’re missing or remove the place they’re faking for from the script entirely. Spy stories can be set anywhere, can’t they?”</p><p>Jack looks very impressed at that.</p><p>
  <strong>Jack asked a <em>lot </em>of good but pedantic questions. Not only has Gavin not dismissed his questions, he’s already come up with solutions, or at least reasons for the way he views things (e.g. project’s about getting people outside their dorm rooms, so he’s not so concerned with following the brief to the letter), and how they can help the project (office doubling for locations). And even though it’s not mentioned, Gavin had come up with the spy idea with the variety of locations possible in mind; a demonstration of how he’s more instinct than meticulous preparation.</strong>
</p><p>“Okay,” Jack nods. Then he bites his lip, and it hits Gavin that maybe not all of Jack’s concerns had been voiced. “We’ll need filming permits, location release agreements and insurance,” he rattles off.</p><p>
  <strong>Ah yes. <em>Paperwork. </em>For most people, avoiding paperwork alone is reason enough to film guerilla-style. So it’s definitely not something people like to deal with, hence why Jack’s so hesitant to bring it up. Also tends to affirm people’s tendency to perceive Jack as Too Serious and a Buzzkill.</strong>
</p><p>“Of course,” Gavin says, and Jack’s surprised look kicks him right in the shins. “We gotta do it all legally, don’t we?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack answers, his shoulders loosening slightly.</p><p>“But we’ll get to that later,” Gavin says, because they need to finish up a few things before they get to that. “Let’s keep going, shall we?”</p><p>They talk things out. They finish outlining the story, then they move onto the camera shots. They can’t do much without the script or knowing where they can film, but Jack groups a bunch of shots on the checklist together and Gavin realizes that most of them are just the standard ones for a two-person conversation with a bunch of different angles. <strong>Because Gavin’s a smart cookie, and this version of him is good at the big picture stuff. Also cheers to online articles about how to film a two-person conversation.</strong></p><p>They talk over lighting and cameras and Jack suggests that they rent the ones they’re using in class from uni. After clarifying that he’s not just suggesting it out of convenience, Gavin agrees with him.</p><p><strong>Jack suggesting they use uni equipment is directly inspired by how Jack picked his GTA V car (Entity XF) when they first started playing the game and hasn’t changed it since; once he finds something he likes, he sticks with it. The classics, if you will. Of course, that can also lead to just using it out of convenience, which is why Gavin clarifies it with him first (cheers to ‘every student film set’ for the hilarious quote, ‘I just rented this camera from the university and I am very very unfamiliar with how to use it’). Also, they’re in a cinematography class, so if there’s any class where the cameras would be solid, it’s that one. </strong>It’s not the best equipment, but Gavin has a tendency to linger too much over specs and he knows deep down that good gear alone doesn’t make a good film. <strong>This is something I didn’t realise for a while, because so many YouTube videos are reviews of the latest, flashiest camera. What I learnt is that filmmaking is about making the best thing you can with what you’ve got, and if you have a flashy expensive camera you don’t know how to use, you’re still going to make shit because you literally don’t know what all the knobs and settings do.</strong></p><p>Then they talk about sound.</p><p>
  <strong>At this point, I’d finished up most of the story, but <em>sound </em>as a two-person team was a big question mark in my head. Most of the time they’d get an extra or an actor not in the scene to hold a boom microphone, but wouldn’t that go against the idea behind the assignment in this story, which is to have the workload of five people but only having two people on board? How did solo filmmakers handle sound?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>That was the lightning bolt, the final thing to tie this scene – both parts of it – together.</strong>
</p><p>They can’t get anyone else to help, not even to hold a boom microphone, so neither of them are quite sure how to handle that. It takes Gavin a while to realise that Jack doesn’t know either, because he kind of waffles around it, but they get there eventually. Gavin shrugs and tells him that it’s fine and that they can look into it later. Jack gives him an odd look at that, but Gavin doesn’t notice it at the time, because if someone doesn’t know something then they don’t know it, that’s just how it is. <strong>Gavin literally just barreled past the popular misconception/expectation that mature aged students should know everything (they don’t, and aren’t obligated to).</strong></p><p>After that, Jack designates tasks. He asks upfront what Gavin’s strengths are – lighting, quickly framing subjects and handling sound – and assigns those to him. Jack will handle the rest of the cinematography, plus writing the script, storyboard and shot list, and editing the final film. They’ll rent equipment from uni and they’ll scout locations together.</p><p>“We can start scouting tomorrow, if you’re available,” Jack says, as they wrap up. “I’ll make sure to bring the paperwork for it, so that if we find somewhere good then we can get it sorted straight away.”</p><p>
  <strong>I’d originally had Gavin ask Jack whether they could film in his apartment, since it was just off-campus and might have been outside the half a mile radius restriction for filming. But I took that out because I didn’t want to imply that Jack was only as useful as the locations he could provide.</strong>
</p><p>“Sure, I’m free in the morning,” Gavin says. It’s quick, without a doubt, but if they can figure out where they can film now then things will go a lot smoother, including whether they have to relocate parts of their film. Besides, it’s not like they can make much of a film without knowing where they can film in the first place, just like Jack had said earlier. “When do you want to start?”</p><p>Jack bites his lip. “Um, is 10am okay with you? I’m free all day, so I can start whenever. I’d ask for earlier but I don’t want to intrude or anything.”</p><p>“What time were you thinking?” Gavin asks. “If you didn’t care about intruding?”</p><p>Jack hesitates.</p><p>“If you say a time and it’s too early for me I’ll let you know and we can talk about it,” Gavin adds. “That’s what collaborative stuff is all about, right? Talking?”</p><p>So, an explanation. Gavin had wanted to comfort, in some way. To ease Jack’s apprehension. What had come out instead was a bunch of cliched lines that was probably in some terrible movie.</p><p>
  <strong>This was originally going to be where Jack first hesitated over asking a question, asked it, and Gavin answered it – that first line of communication. But the more I wrote this story, the more I realized just how important logistics were, and everything fell into place there. Still, I felt that this was important to help cement those lines of communication, a space where Jack felt it was okay to ask questions because they wouldn’t be dismissed.</strong>
</p><p>But Jack nods.</p><p>“I was thinking 5am? Leave at 4am. We’d be starting with a couple of parks and some side streets.”</p><p>That’s.</p><p>“You want to do an early morning shoot?” Gavin asks incredulously, since most people don’t choose to shoot that early, if they can avoid it. <strong>And 5am is vastly different to 10am.</strong></p><p>“I wanted to shoot during golden hour, actually. The earlier we start the earlier we can get there.”</p><p>Ah, that makes more sense. Golden hour is prime time for good lighting, frantic shooting and is commonly misconceived as being effortless to film in.</p><p>
  <strong>I thought golden hour was effortless to film in too. Until I read a couple of online articles about it, that is. Everything from golden hour starting earlier than expected, to golden hour not even being an hour sometimes, to golden hour existing both in the morning and night, and the night version having a better version of golden hour called <em>blue </em>hour right before it but the lighting’s different for that too so you can’t interchange blue hour footage with golden hour footage =O.</strong>
</p><p>“Once we start shooting, yes. But tomorrow we’re just scouting locations, so we don’t necessarily have to leave that early. I don’t mind, but we should scout the location at the time of day we want to shoot it at. So maybe – when does the sun rise? 6:30am?” Gavin says as he pulls out his phone to check.</p><p>“6am,” Jack says, before he even unlocks his phone. <strong>Because Jack’s been in Austin long enough – has <em>filmed </em>here long enough – to memorise sunrises and sunsets. </strong>“Maybe we can leave at 5am, then? If there’s traffic we’ll still get there in time, and if we’re early we can talk more specifically about what we’re looking for in locations before we scout.”</p><p>“I mean, all I’m looking for right now is wherever we can shoot at for free that happens to fit,” Gavin shrugs. <strong>After all, finding locations they can shoot in at all is hard enough. </strong>“We should ask friends and stuff first, see if they have anything. <strong>Friends, on Jack’s end. Yeah, right. </strong>But 5am is fine. Could you pick me up, though? I’m not – accustomed to driving.”</p><hr/><p>Gavin yawns his way into Jack’s car and slumps into the passenger seat. 5am, sharp, on the dashboard. Comfy seats.</p><p>“Thanks for this,” Jack says from the driver’s seat. He looks steely awake, <strong>gotta be Professional </strong>but the circles under his eyes are darker than Gavin’s and his hands are clenching the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling asleep. “I would have gotten you coffee, but I don’t know what you like.”</p><p>“It’s fine. Milk and sugar, if it matters,” Gavin mumbles. <strong>Most people would give clearer answers than <em>milk and sugar, </em>Gavin, and it’s a reference to how his answers to questions in videos can be a bit vague sometimes. </strong>Jack’s car is <em>really</em> comfy, all squishy and stuff. He’s even turned on the overhead light, which Gavin winces at. “Ugh, too bright.”</p><p>“I’ll turn it off once you put your seatbelt on,” Jack says gently, when Gavin yawns again <strong>Because of course sweet, caring Jack would worry about seatbelts =)</strong>. “I know it’s early. I could…I could let you sleep for a bit if you need it.”  <strong>And about people getting sleep =).</strong></p><p>“No, no, it’s fine. Sorry, just give me time to wake up.” Gavin stretches his arms, cursing when his fists hit the ceiling, but it wakes him up enough to put his seatbelt on. “Done.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Jack smiles at him softly, turning off the light before pulling out onto the street. Or at least Gavin thinks he smiles. Kind of hard to tell in the dark. And Gavin thinks it’s soft, but it’s probably just a trick in the light of the dashboard.</p><p>“So where are we going?”</p><p>“I was originally going to take you to the parks I’d talked about, but there’s no traffic right now, so we could drive around town first, see if there’s any buildings we could use for exterior shots, maybe even establishing ones,” Jack hesitates, before adding, “We could also see if driving around gives us any ideas for where we could film at other than, ‘wherever’s free that happens to fit’. <strong>I wanted to use this to show that Jack’s slowly becoming less hesitant about expressing his doubts with Gavin. </strong>And if we have some time left before sunrise we could check out some quiet streets. Just to see what might be possible, what places you like.”</p><p>Gavin chuckles. “Yeah, ‘wherever’s free’ is a bit vague, isn’t it? I’m down. If we find, like – oh!” He sits up as a familiar, brightly-lit bakery zooms past.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“That’s where Lindsay works! My friend,” Gavin explains at Jack’s confused glance. <strong>Gavin’s saw-something-that-reminded-me-of-other-thing, and instinctive not meticulous, again. Plus another casual name-drop. And Lindsay bakes, so I figured her working at a bakery part-time wasn’t much of a stretch. </strong>He’s been there many times, so it’s easy to recall what he remembers from his visits there. “It’s not an office, but it’s nice and bright like a spy’s headquarters.”</p><p>“A bakery and a spy’s headquarters…they aren’t nearly the same thing,” Jack says with a mixture of disbelief and incredulousness. “Based on that, you could say – never mind.”</p><p>Gavin could comment on that last part, but Jack looks uncomfortable now, like he hadn’t meant to keep going, so he leaves it alone and says, “Yeah, but it’s something, right?”</p><p>He shrugs to go along with the casual question, but given that Jack’s mouth is now opening and closing over and over, Gavin suddenly wonders whether Jack will throw in the towel now.</p><p>“Okay…” Jack eventually trails off. He swallows, makes a turn, and swallows again. “Um…”</p><p>“We can use somewhere else, it’s fine,” Gavin says hastily.</p><p>“No, no,” Jack says quickly, though his voice is a bit too small for Gavin to feel like he really means it. “It’s just…”</p><p>He looks like he’s going to say something, but then he doesn’t. He starts to say something, but then he stops himself halfway through the first word. He chokes out another abrupt sound shortly after. A minute goes by, with only silence, and Gavin can’t help but look over in worry.</p><p>Jack’s shoulders are almost up to his ears and his lips are tightly pursed like he’s actively stopping himself from bursting out with what he wants to say.</p><p>Gavin can’t have that. He can’t.</p><p>“What is it?” Gavin asks as softly and as gently as he can.</p><p>He’s never really been one to be soothing – he’s usually the bubbly excitable one amongst his friends – but something must have worked out, because Jack takes a slow, shaky breath and says:</p><p>“What if we can’t get an office at all, or something similar? What do we do? We can’t fake a spy’s headquarters from, say, a park or something. I could get some tables and chairs and set them up if we need to…”</p><p>
  <strong>Jack tends to see potential obstacles early and gets easily overwhelmed by them. He’s also not that great at thinking outside the box (part of why he’s an avid rule and takes assignment rules a bit too literally), but he’s also the type to go the extra mile, hence the offer to buy tables and chairs to make a mock-office outside.</strong>
</p><p>“No, no, no, we don’t need to do that!” Gavin hastens to tell him. “I mean, I appreciate your dedication, but if we can’t get an office-like place…I’m not sure, honestly, but spy stories can be set anywhere, can’t they? They can get like, phone orders for missions or something.”</p><p>“ ‘Phone orders for missions’,” Jack echoes.</p><p>For some reason, Gavin had thought that Jack would make some sort of joke. Gavin’s said similar lines before during other group projects, and at least one person would have made a joke or something.</p><p>But he doesn’t.</p><p>As it is, Jack keeps driving, face closed off and serious as anything, as though he’s steeling himself for having to comb through antique stores to get the required props for it.</p><p>
  <strong>I’ve noticed that Jack sometimes misses a joke someone makes that either: was specifically intended to make him laugh; or would result in most people joking back. There are so many characters whose first instinct is to always joke back, and that’s great. But not everyone’s like that, and more than anything I wanted this fic to explore characteristics that aren’t typically included in fics (e.g. not always joking around). </strong>
</p><p>He suddenly wants to make Jack laugh. To <em>smile. </em>To be anything but so tense that his shoulders are still up to his ears.</p><p>After a moment, Jack straightens, the tension in his shoulders melting away to instead form a back stiffer than someone with a stick up their arse.</p><p>“I guess it can’t hurt to check it out, the bakery,” Jack says, finally. “Do you have the address, or know the way there?”</p><p>“No, but I’ll ask Lindsay for it, I’m sure she’ll be happy to give us a proper tour of the place,” Gavin says easily, slouching further in his seat. These seats are <em>really </em>comfy. “She knows the manager really well, so getting into contact with them should be alright.”</p><p>He gets his phone out to message her, only to wince at the time and think better of it.</p><p>Though if there’s anyone who’d be okay with random late messages, it’d be Lindsay, whose last message to him was cat memes at 4am the night before. Still, he figures that it’s better to be safe than sorry and message her later.</p><p>“By the way, I looked into what we could do about audio,” Jack says. “We can get a microphone stand and some clamps, then mount a shotgun mic to it.”</p><p>“Interesting,” Gavin says, because he’d thought about it a bit last night and had come up with something different. “I looked into it a bit too. But what about lav mics?”</p><p>
  <strong>I was lucky enough to find a YouTube video about how solo filmmakers handled sound. In that video, two solutions were posed: lavalier mics (those little mics you clip onto your shirt) and using clamps to mount shotgun mics (the big cylindrical ones you attach onto the end of a boom pole to make a boom mic) onto. Two solutions, two characters. Done.</strong>
</p><p>Jack shakes his head. “Lav mikes would still be visible on the actors and you’d have to get high-end ones – which we don’t have – to get the quality of a shotgun mic. They tend to pick up on too much background noise, and we’d need to get radio equipment for them. Which is fine, but – I just think that it’d be better to use a shotgun mic with some stands. There’s some cheap ones we can get on Amazon. If we were filming in a car, for instance, we could mount a clamp here,” Jack explains, tapping his hand on the gear stick.</p><p>“Sounds good,” Gavin says. He smiles at Jack, impressed that he’s thought about the audio. Most people care so little about it that at this point, Gavin’s just glad if they don’t use the camera’s internal microphone <strong>cheers to ‘every student film set’ for that one, but seriously, a camera’s internal microphone is terrible</strong>, but Jack has gone above and beyond that.</p><p>Gavin pulls up Amazon on his phone. “What shotgun mics do we have at uni?” he asks casually, not expecting Jack to know.</p><p>Imagine his surprise when Jack recites a brand, name and model. When he looks it up – yep, it’s exactly the same one they’re using in class, right down to the line number. <strong>Jack is absolutely the kind of guy who would remember exact models of microphones. This is the guy who remembers specific dates of events from ten years ago like it’s nothing.</strong></p><p>“You absolute cheesecake,” Gavin stares at him in disbelief, because <em>seriously.</em><strike></strike></p><p>Jack chuckles, like he just casually catalogs everything he sees, like those people who remember everything. “What’s the size of it?”</p><p>Gavin recites the specs, and Jack quickly figures out what size microphone clamps they’ll need. Before Gavin knows it he’s ordering a microphone clamp and a stand on Jack’s Amazon account, since apparently they don’t have any at uni; none that can fit their shotgun mics or aren’t permanently loaned to the music department, at least. <strong>Because I figured that Jack would know that kind of stuff, maybe have run around uni trying to figure it out once he realized the potential solution of microphone clamps. </strong>As he makes the order, Gavin notes that they should write the script with these limitations in mind, and when they scout they should look for places where they can mount microphones, on top of everything else they need to look for. Gavin thinks he sees warmth in Jack’s features at that. <strong>Gavin’s not just saying a casual, ‘okay’ – he’s actually taking Jack’s suggestions seriously.</strong></p><p>There are a few more office buildings that look promising, and they pass by a group of towers near a former nuclear power plant that gets Jack pretty excited <strong>this is Seaholm Power Plant in Austin, a former power station with three cylindrical towers that light up blue at night</strong>, but honestly, Gavin is mostly just enjoying the drive.</p><p>It’s the smoothest ride of Gavin’s life; even laden with exhaustion Jack is a wonderful driver. He puts on music at some point – the Beatles, Gavin echoes, and Jack’s soft smile make Gavin’s heart pound in his chest. It’s warm in here; that rare comfy-warm in Austin where it’s soothing rather than stifling. He almost drifts off at one point, only to be woken up by the music suddenly getting louder. Jack’s hand is on the volume dial, turned up, and he gently says that if he’s still up for it, they could check out the side-streets, or they could just head straight over to the parks and Gavin could sleep until sunrise. Gavin murmurs that he’s up for the side-streets, before lightly dozing off again. <strong>I wanted this to seem cozy, a rapid-quick-slow fall in love, and I tried to emulate that by getting as many senses in there as I could.</strong></p><p>Gavin wakes to tapping on his shoulder, and Jack quietly saying, “We’re here.”</p><hr/><p>Gavin’s been in Austin for a year, ever since he flew here right after graduation. In that time, he’s filmed a lot of stuff with a lot of people – had to, given the necessity of teamwork and the ‘necessity’ of tight deadlines. Which means he’s filmed on a <em>lot </em>of side-streets, both close to and far from uni.</p><p>Jack’s the first person he’s met that knows these streets like the back of his hand.</p><p>Oh, there’s pretenders, for sure. The pretentious types who act like they know all about a location when they’d just looked it up using street view on Google Maps the day before. The ones who try and be all big and intimidating and I’m-the-boss-I-know-everything, type. The ones who inevitably end up mumbling, <em>this place is smaller than I thought</em>, or, <em>that wasn’t on the map.</em></p><p>But Jack moves confidently, speaks with genuine love and enthusiasm as he points out the general geography of the streets; where he thinks camera equipment could go; and to not worry about the cat wandering by, it just likes taking an early morning stroll before returning to the house at the end of the road. <strong>Jack loves Austin IRL, and given that he’s doing a film degree in this fic, I translated that to him knowing a lot about filming in Austin. </strong>As he walks, he’s smiling, and his shoulders are relaxed for the first time since Gavin met him. His eyes have lit up under the yellowing streetlights, casting all that ginger in a soft glow. <strong>If this were from anyone else’s POV, I would have worded it more eloquently, but it’s Gavin, so ‘all that ginger’ it is.</strong></p><p>Jack asks him for his thoughts on potentially disruptive background sounds like the faintly buzzing streetlights, about whether the gas station down the road would be too bright or noisy, how much power they’d need for extra lights so they can figure out which generator they’d need to bring. <strong>Because it turns out there’s a <em>lot </em>required for a location to be appropriate for filming. Even more-so than for photography. </strong>Gavin tells him that it’s a nice location. That he’s most interested in shooting on the street leading to the gas station. That the street isn’t too narrow; and the station would make an interesting backdrop and be an overly harsh but otherwise decent backlight for shots. That he can account for the humming streetlights, and that they’d just bring a couple of key lights, as well as a lot of spare batteries and a battery-operated camera. But he tells him that no matter what street they shoot on, they’d only be able to shoot from a few directions since there are houses of all different eras around them, and if cars park on the sidewalk then they’d get in the way of wide shots, meaning they’d have to use a lot more close-ups than prescribed in the brief.</p><p>
  <strong>There are a couple of YouTube videos about location scouting that broke down the process really well, and I did my best to communicate that here. </strong>
  <strong>I tried to be consistent with location scouting: lights, audio, directions/angles the camera could face, and power. This was to make it easier for both readers and myself to follow.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin takes photos of the street, and then they head off to the first park on Jack’s list.<strong> Because taking photos/video is an important part of location scouting, and Gavin’s such a photographer IRL that he’d absolutely do that.</strong></p><p>Which is also, literally, the closest park to them, because apparently Jack is a walking map and had planned the side-street route so that they emerged right in front of it. Gavin’s already vocalising specific directions they could shoot from that would flow directly from street to park, and Jack’s more than happy to pitch in. His smile hasn’t faded despite Gavin taking the reins; if anything, it gets brighter, or maybe that’s just the sun starting to poke up in the sky as they make their way through the park. <strong>Jack being drawn to Gavin because he’s Smart and stuff.</strong></p><p>It’s beautiful. Gavin stops for a moment and just…watches. It’s oddly peaceful here. The birds are just starting to chirp, and Jack’s smile is so warm, and the air smells like freshly cut grass, and the golden sunrays spill onto Jack’s face, making him look…lovely. He fits in well here, so much more than at his cold, detached apartment. <strong>Jack is a warm guy =).</strong></p><p>Gavin’s filmed during golden hour before – scouted at golden hour before – but this is the first time he’s actually enjoyed it, where it hasn’t just been exhaustion and too much coffee. For the first time since he came to uni, he remembers why people love golden hour so much; why <em>he </em>loves it. <strong>This is the first hint to Gavin having become disillusioned towards filmmaking as a whole. </strong>Gavin loves filming with natural light, and golden hour is the best of it.</p><p>Jack turns to look back at him, and Gavin quickly turns away before he can notice.</p><p>There’s a tall building across the street that obscures the sky, blocking the golden light. On the opposite side, there’s a yoga class off to the side, further limiting possible camera angles. The birds, much as he loves them, might become an issue. Gavin shoots some test videos on his phone, catching a couple of joggers and the tip of Congress in the distance, but they can wait out the joggers and use different camera angles to cut the building out.</p><p>The park is a blank slate, so a chase sequence would work well here. Jack points out that parking is plentiful, and the bathrooms are nearby. <strong>Bathrooms and parking are a big deal. In Indy Mogul’s video, ‘What does a producer actually do?’ a producer broke down the scene in the movie La La Land where Sebastian and Mia are dancing on a street overlooking LA during sunset, saying they need to rent a bunch of port-a-potties for all the crew and cast. In the same video, he broke down the pool scene in a luxury LA home and talked about how they’d have to get tour buses to ferry the 30+ extras from a parking lot nearby to the LA home because apparently houses in LA have steep hills with no parking. We don’t need these things in this fic because it’s a small-scope short film in Austin, but it just goes to show how much logistics – and Jack’s perspective – matters. </strong>If they shoot during golden hour, they won’t need to bring a generator for lights, but Gavin tells him that they should bring one just in case, hesitantly pointing out that golden hour doesn’t last as long as people think. <strong>And once natural lights are gone, you need to add your own, and for that you need power. Since you’re outdoors, that means power supply issues (e.g. requires generators or lots of camera batteries). Cheers to AustinMcConnell’s YouTube video, ‘i made a movie. it stunk.’ for that one.</strong></p><p>Jack looks at him with new respect after that.</p><p>The second park is much the same, and afterwards, they go buy bread rolls from HEB for breakfast and sit at a table in a nearby courtyard. It’s 8am, so Gavin messages his friends in the group chat, asking them for lists of free filming locations, and a private message to Lindsay about filming at the bakery she works at. Across from him, Jack, who had noted who oversaw the side-streets and the parks since they didn’t see any staff, is emailing them for permission to film there.</p><p>Geoff replies in the group chat almost immediately.</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: Gavin, I’m still in holiday mood. It’s only been two weeks! </em>
  <strong>In Australian universities, most tutorials and computer labs (and hence Jack and Gavin’s project) don’t start until week two of the semester. I imagine they first met up shortly after agreeing to work together, hence the rapid timeline.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin smiles to himself. Some things never change.</p><p>
  <em>GavinoFree: Aw, Geoffy, won’t you say, “Wow, Gavin’s actually doing okay in a group project this time?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: What??? Nothing’s come to blows yet?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>GavinoFree: Okay, first of all, the blows didn’t involve me at all, I was just dragged into taking sides. Second of all, we’re scouting locations right now so if you know any then we could drop in and have a look.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: “We?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>GavinoFree: Shut up, you mug. It’s just one person, which makes things easier.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: It does. But you’re scouting locations already?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>GavinoFree: Yeah. We agreed that it’d be best if we saw what we could use first and then write the script around it. </em>
  <strong>Usually it’s write the script first <em>then </em>find locations, but given how many locations are required in the brief (3+, whereas people try and condense it to 1 if possible) and how some low-budget feature films see what places they have access to for free first in order to save money (location hire is Expensive), I figured location scouting first would be a good idea. </strong>
  <em>Which means you, and any places you know.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: Right. And who’s gonna write the script?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>GavinoFree: He is.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: …That’s a new one.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: Alright. Just be careful that he doesn’t pawn off the script to you when he doesn’t write it because of Bad Excuse number 207. </em>
  <strong>Alluding to Gavin being saddled with screenwriter duties at the last second in previous projects.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Goeff: You can drop by the café I work at, I’m on shift there until one.</em>
</p><p>Geoff sends a picture of the café, with an address.</p><hr/><p>Unsurprisingly, Geoff and Jack get on like a house on fire, with their common interests in old-school movies, baseball and rave music from the 90’s. It takes ten minutes to scout the café – it’s too close to the highway and is too small for their equipment – and then the three of them shoot the shit until eleven, since Gavin has classes at noon (“Why do they always put classes <em>during</em> lunch?”). <strong>I didn’t end up including this, but Jack would shy away from Geoff until Gavin introduced them, and Gavin wouldn’t notice this because, well, introducing someone he actually gets along with is pretty intuitive to him. Also, classes during the unofficial lunch hour is something I experienced while at uni.</strong></p><p>It’s nice. Gavin jumps onto Geoff’s back as a goodbye, and Geoff finishes drawing a moustache on his arm with the sharpie used for names on coffee cups while talking baseball players with Jack, who’s grinning at Gavin and being deliberately obtuse with Geoff so he won’t notice the cat Gavin’s drawing on his forehead with another sharpie.</p><p>It’s only when they get into Jack’s car does Gavin remember that they were supposed to go to the studios at uni to do some camera tests there, which they won’t have time to do since they left so late. But Jack waves him off and says that they can do that another day.</p><p>“I uh, thank you for introducing me to Geoff,” Jack says as they hit the I-35.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Gavin says.</p><p>He wonders where this is going. The thanks are odd enough, but there’s something both light and heavy in Jack’s expression, like he’s more and less lonely at the same time.</p><p>“I don’t really – talk, with that many people,” Jack says. <strong>Alluding to how Jack doesn’t have any friends at uni.</strong></p><p>There’s a bunch of things under that, but Gavin’s not going to pry. “Really, you’re welcome. I’m glad you and Geoff get along.”</p><p>Jack smiles. He opens his mouth but then hastily closes it.</p><p>They’re half-way back to uni when Jack finally blurts out:</p><p>“Are you and Geoff dating?”</p><p>“<em>What?</em>” Gavin exclaims. “Wha – where did that come from?”</p><p>“Which – it’s fine, I mean, I’m – I’m bi, but, um…” Jack turns red and fastidiously keeps his eyes fixed on the road.</p><p>“I’m bi too,” Gavin breathes out, staring at Jack with new wonder because <em>holy shit he’s not straight, and that’s amazing. </em>“But no, Geoff and I aren’t dating. He likes to joke that we are, but we’re just best friends.”</p><p>“Oh,” Jack’s flush deepens, and he nods. “Okay. Cool. Good.” He clears his throat. “It’s just that you and Geoff seem really close, and I thought…”</p><p>“Yeah, a lot of people do. It’s cool, though,” Gavin laughs.</p><p>When Jack drops him off, Gavin thinks he sees something grateful in Jack’s eyes.</p><hr/><p>Lindsay sends ten messages to Gavin before his classes, with every second one being variations of, ‘yes I’ll check with manager’, ‘omg you get along with someone???’ and surprised emoji faces, saying she’ll give them a tour that night after that bakery’s closed. Jack has a meeting for another group project then, but they both agree that they can scout individually.</p><p>The seating area in the bakery has just enough space for camera equipment, and the eclectic mix-and-match of vintage, fancy-looking wooden dining tables and chairs means that there are plenty of options for visually interesting shots, which Gavin takes plenty of pictures of to send to Jack later.</p><p>The windows are large, which means lighting would be easy if they filmed during the day. But given the long opening hours, it’s more likely they’ll have to film at night, which means having to use the fluorescent ceiling lights here, which are not ideal but not a surprise. And there are plenty of tables for them to mount microphone clamps for sound.</p><p>Lindsay brings him to the kitchens as well, because why not? As many times as Gavin has been here, not once has he gone to the kitchens; it’s not like he works there, after all. So when he walks in, he expects them to be small and cramped, because that’s how commercial kitchens typically are.</p><p>To his surprise, the kitchen is super spacious – far more spacious than the seating area – to the point where it’s possible to get 360 degree shots if the camera’s set in the right spot. There are LED lights in the ceiling, which makes lighting much easier. There’s a bit of reverb, but it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. <strong>That ‘reverb’ is actually the humming kitchen equipment Jack figures out during filming</strong>.</p><p>Gavin and Lindsay spend most of the tour cracking jokes and catching up. Lindsay’s been doing a theatre degree, and is currently doing a group project to write a script to act out with the group. She also works shifts at the bakery several times a week, and it’s fun to hear her act out humorous interactions she’s had with customers.</p><p>Lindsay then asks Gavin what’s been happening with him, but Gavin doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t tell her about Jack, but at some point, the conversation drifts to video games, and Gavin can’t help but think of him. About his embarrassment at having <em>Trials </em>on his TV. His steely seriousness. Of drifting off to the Beatles playing in his car. About how, for the first time, a teammate of Gavin’s is actually putting in effort, and is also listening to him and actively wanting his input. They <em>communicate</em>.</p><p>Or he thought they did, because two weeks go by without an email from Jack. <strong>Every day of production counts, so two weeks in film school time is basically years.</strong></p><p>They’d emailed each other to follow up on their location scout – they’d agreed to set the story in three locations, the minimum in the brief, or four at most – and Gavin had told him about the office building, reminding him to ask his friends and any local establishments he frequented for places to shoot at. They’d agreed to meet the following week, by which Jack would have written the script, but then other group projects had come up and they’d moved it to the week after. And while Gavin had sent a bunch of pictures and test videos, Jack hadn’t replied. Gavin had even offered to help with the script, but. Nothing.</p><p>Just like every other person Gavin has worked with. <strong>Dun dun duuun.</strong></p><p>So when Gavin knocks on Jack’s door, he doesn’t even know if their meeting’s still on or not.</p><p>But when Jack opens the door, all of Gavin’s irritation melts away.</p><p>He looks like a mess. Red-rimmed eyes behind his glasses, his hair all over the place. Face sweaty and exhausted. Barely tamped frustration, and deeper circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t gotten any sleep. His eyes widen when he sees Gavin.</p><p>“Shit, we have a meeting, don’t we? Come in,” Jack says, stepping aside before Gavin can open his mouth.</p><p>When he steps in, his heart sinks.</p><p>The dining room is in tatters. Strewn around the room are balled-up pieces of paper, ripped pages filled with crossed out writing on them, eraser bits, and ballpoint ink bleeding through pages onto the dining table. Some of the pages are titled <em>Script: Partner Project </em>but all of them are filled with screen directions, planning and character dialogue about spies and traitors.</p><p>He hasn’t been doing nothing. Not at all.</p><p>
  <strong>I’d debated over whether Jack would have so many pieces of paper lying around, because scripts are typically typed on a computer, and I didn’t want a moment of comfort and respect to depend upon the medium with which Jack created the script, but then I realized that if it was mostly planning and brainstorming and draft storyboards, then of course it would be on paper (complete with Dan Harmon’s Story Circle for character/plot development). Alternatively, I guess I could have had Jack’s laptop open to tons of unfinished drafts and him quickly closing his laptop out of embarrassment.</strong>
</p><p>Jack swears before rushing over, stumbling over apologies as he shoves the bleeding pages into an overfilled recycling bin. It takes four tries of Gavin saying Jack’s name before he stops, tight-lipped and turned away from him.</p><p>“Jack, calm down, it’s okay, I’m not angry at you. I just – we had a meeting and – well, you hadn’t replied to my email, and I – ”</p><p>Words don’t feel right, and even though he and Jack don’t know each other that well, haven’t done anything more than brainstorm ideas and scout locations together, this feels oddly personal. Like he’s comforting a close friend rather than someone he’s just met. <strong>I wanted the reminder of how little they’ve actually done because it feels like a lot has happened already. And Gavin’s not so great with words, but I’d like to think they’re both cuddly people, so I figured them hugging so early wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.</strong></p><p>So he moves in front of him and pulls him into a tight hug.</p><p>It’s odd, hugging someone who is so much larger than you. Gavin is all skinny, bony limbs – twiggy, Geoff says, or twink, if he’s feeling particularly mischievous that day – and Jack is all big and round and soft and warm, dwarfing Gavin easily. But holding him feels nice.</p><p>Jack freezes for a moment, but then he exhales and his arms come up around Gavin to cling to him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into Gavin’s ear.</p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Except for working yourself into the ground,” Gavin chides him softly, “I thought – ”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” Gavin doesn’t say, <em>I thought you hadn’t done anything, I thought that you had bailed on the project, just like everyone else. </em>“I’m not angry at you, yeah? We can figure this out together.”</p><p>They pull apart. There are tears in Jack’s eyes, and he tugs off his glasses to rub at them angrily. But the tension in his stance has faded. <strong>One of my favourite things about Jackvin has always been their mutual love of physical affection. There are all these head-canons about them cuddling and holding hands like, literally all the time and them finding so much comfort in that, and I love all of them.</strong></p><p>“I tried to write the script,” Jack begins. “And I kept getting stuck. I kept going back and re-writing every little thing. Like when the spy and traitor first confront each other, the stakes aren’t high enough. There’s nothing about finding the ‘beauty in the mundane’ other than the flash-drive and the locations used. The characters don’t change enough throughout the story.”</p><p>
  <strong>I think this is something all writers can relate to. There’s a lot of emphasis on <em>escalation </em>of drama, and character arcs and/or relationship development to retain reader interest. That’s something I struggled with, for a variety of reasons: rare pairing (Jackvin), rarely written character (Jack) and a lot of <em>stuff </em>going on without it necessarily being escalation of drama (this isn’t enemies to lovers, after all, but the story’s pace has to kick up somehow). I wanted to do the pairing and the characters justice. And I had character arcs in mind, but I kept worrying that they were too subtle or wouldn’t come through in the story.</strong>
</p><p>“Yeah,” Gavin breathes out, because <em>holy shit</em>, then curses himself for being crass. “Wait – no, I can’t say that, I can’t make that judgement without seeing the script.”</p><p>“No, you can’t,” Jack gives him a watery smile, but it’s clear that he hasn’t taken offence. “But I didn’t interpret it like that, anyway.</p><p>“And I – look, I know we’ve only met up a couple of times, but you’re smart. Really smart. Maybe even the smartest guy I’ve met. The way you talk about shooting stuff – the way you <em>location scout </em>– is incredible. It’s not all talk, either,” Jack scoffs wetly, like he shouldn’t be saying this, like it’s too soon. In many ways, it is. “Those test videos that you shot on your phone are better than what most people shoot with professional camera equipment. And we seem to work well together, so I wanted this script to be good.”</p><p>
  <strong>I have a headcanon where Jack received those test photos and videos and got incredibly intimidated, because <em>holy shit </em>this guy is good. But the quality of films revolve around the script, so this has to be good. And that the pressure of it all just – got to Jack.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Also, this was my way of incorporating the time Jack said that Gavin was the smartest person he worked with, in RT Podcast #336 back in 2015.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And in many ways, Jack saying that Gavin’s so smart <em>is</em> said way too soon, because in the film world you don’t know what someone’s really like until you’re on set with them, and Gavin’s not the only one whose been on terrible student film sets. In that sense, Jack is jumping the gun, an instinct more than meticulously thought out. But that doesn’t mean it’s any less true, and given what they’ve already done so far, and the communication lines they’ve established with each other, Jack means it, earnestly, in a way that will deepen the more they work together.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin’s head is spinning. He needs to sit down. They both do.</p><p>“Let’s go to the sofa, yeah? And just, not think about this, for a while?” Gavin gestures to the balled-up scripts. “Well, we should move everything off to the side first, but then we can go to the sofa? If there’s anything salvageable we can get them out later.”</p><p>“But our meeting – we have to keep going, we’re already behind, you have a meeting right after this – ”</p><p>“We’re not gonna be able to do anything like this, yeah? Besides, I could use a break. That meeting I have is one for another group project and ugh,” Gavin shudders. “It is not going as well as this one is.”</p><p>“It’s not?” Jack sniffles, disbelieving.</p><p>“No. Because nobody in the group is communicating with each other. I’ve tried, but – no one replies to my emails. No one sends anything either. The one time we met up – they just, talked all over each other.”</p><p>“That fucking sucks,” Jack says as he grabs some tissues and wipes his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, it does. Can’t get a word in.”</p><p>“Group projects are – ” Jack tosses a tear-stained tissue across the room. “ – either hell on legs or stress on legs.” <strong>Not sure that Jack would ever word things as ‘(X) on legs’; that seems more like a Gavin thing, but I decided to hell with it and leave it as is.</strong></p><p>“Both, usually.”</p><p>They laugh, Jack’s teary but somehow still <em>warm</em>, and Gavin leads them to Jack’s couch.</p><p>“Now, how about some <em>Trials</em>?”</p><hr/><p>They play Trials Evolution, racing against each other. Gavin deliberately bails into walls at the finish line, flopping his little biker around until Jack’s laughing at his antics. <strong>Gavin’s always up for being an idiot on camera for comedy, so I figured it’d work well here. </strong>And that’s a new one; it’s more like a <em>giggle </em>– it’s a high pitched, tinkling thing, so joyous and bright that it takes Gavin’s breath away. <strong>They both have delightful, surprisingly high-pitched laughs, and I love it =D.</strong></p><p>They play a few more matches, then switch over to YouTube. Jack laughs when Gavin says, embarrassed, that the only stuff he watches on YouTube are film making analyses and cat videos, saying that’s all he watches too. They end up watching Corridor Crew, laughing when they realise it’s both of their favourite channel. <strong>Both Jack and Gavin have referenced and even talked with each other about Corridor Crew before, so I decided to throw in a reference to them because why not. </strong>How even now, they can’t stop nerding out about film making.</p><p>
  <strong>There was going to be a part in the story where the rest of the group was like omg seriously go off and nerd out about film making with each other we don’t want to hear it, and also stop giving each other goo-goo eyes like your love for the other is unrequited because <em>it’s not. </em>That didn’t make it in purely for pacing reasons, but that’s definitely how I envisioned things going down.</strong>
</p><p>At some point, they talk about Austin. How Jack grew up here but lives in his own apartment downtown because his family home is far away. How Gavin flew here from England, how he’s grown to love the melting pot of the boiling sun and the people here. How they both love cats, but neither of their building managers allowed pets. Places to eat, sights to see around town.</p><p>It’s nice.</p><p>They head back to the dining room. Jack tenses when he sees the balled-up scripts, but he sits at the dining table anyway.</p><p>They sort through the scripts, putting them in piles based on what part of the story they were trying to cover. Some of them have sketches on them, and Jack mumbles feebly that he tried making the storyboard and shot list while writing the script. Gavin lets out a whinnied noise and chides him for trying to do too much at once; he’s literally writing the script already, Christ. Gavin manages to persuade him to put them in a separate pile, to put them aside and focus on the script. That they can work on the storyboard and shot list together. <strong>The classic trying-to-do-too-much-at-once-and-loved-one-persuades-them-away-from-it trope (is it a trope? If it isn’t, it should be).</strong></p><p>“But I was originally assigned to do the storyboard and the shot list,” Jack protests. “I need to do my whole job. I can’t just hand things off to you when convenient or pick and choose my duties.” <strong>Jack feels like he needs to be a Professional, especially around someone as accomplished as Gavin. And I figured that in big budget films, people don’t just interchange roles and stuff.</strong></p><p>“Well, yeah, but I’m offering, so you’re not handing things off. And this isn’t a feature film studio, is it? And I’m not an executive boss. And I’m saying that it’s not worth it if it’s causing you this much stress.”</p><p>They stare each other down. Jack’s tense, eyes stubborn and fierce. But Gavin meets his gaze evenly, and finally Jack relents.</p><p>“…Okay.”</p><p>Gavin gently asks him if anything else is troubling him about writing the script – besides the story, which he’s reading through at the moment – and Jack admits that he’d been trying to visualize the story at the same time with a vision board on Pinterest, whether it would work with what they’ve got. Which is – that’s great and all, Gavin tells him, but it also seems like it’s been stifling Jack’s creativity, given that most of Jack’s balled-up scripts are actually planning and screen directions, listing and re-listing the checklist of shots to make sure they were included. <strong>Gavin once again appreciates Jack’s dedication, but this time he puts things aside so that they don’t go overboard.</strong></p><p>Gavin suggests that they write the script without thinking about the shots required, because they can always alter the script to fit the checklist of shots, but they can’t edit something they haven’t written, can they? That the only thing they’re locked in is the locations they’ve got available; the office, the park, side-streets – maybe a restaurant, or a warehouse if they’re really lucky, but they can find a replacement for that.</p><p>Jack chokes out a laugh. “I’ve been writing the script <em>around </em>specific film techniques rather than the other way around.”</p><p>
  <strong>While researching for this fic, I realized that so many film school assignments were about writing and making tons of short films really quickly. And I was like – wait, that seems kind of odd, at least in a cinematography class, to have to do so much on your own. I looked up the job description for a cinematographer and a main part of it was, ‘analysing a script’. <em>Analyse</em>, not write it. Still, this rapid production process is standard in film school, no matter what specialty you choose: directing, producing, etc. And you need to know at least a little bit about every area of filmmaking. Yet I still wanted to address the discrepancy of ‘writing a script’ as required by the assignment and ‘analysing a script’ as per the role of a cinematographer.</strong>
</p><p>“Huh. Yeah, you have,” Gavin says lightly, smiling at him to reassure him.</p><p>“It’s so fucking stupid,” Jack scoffs out something like a laugh. “The whole point of cinematography is to analyse a script and decide how to film it, not the other way around, nor to spend two weeks on a script and produce nothing.”</p><p>
  <strong>That being said, film school is the only time where you get to write, direct and shoot your own films freely. Being able to do so many things at once allows you to experiment, to try new things. Film school is the one chance to do so, because after that you’re locked to one role on-set, or in lower-end roles like PA, etc. Articles online said that a lot of people find it jarring to go from that kind of open environment to the more realistic, closed off one. </strong>
</p><p>“It’s not nothing,” Gavin hums. “It’s quite a lot of somethings,” he gestures to the four stacks of paper in front of them; script, planning, screen directions and storyboard with shot list. “It would have been nice if they’d let us collaborate with a screenwriters’ class, though.”</p><p>
  <strong>Most group projects would have people collaborate with students from other classes (e.g. screenwriting, directing, production design, etc.) but for the purposes of this assignment I avoided that. This is so that they would have to figure out all the steps of making a film together, just the two of them; more time spent together, only being able to rely on each other, so good teamwork is even more important.</strong>
</p><p>“Or a sound recordist,” Jack says. “Speaking of which, the microphone clamps and stand should be here tomorrow.”</p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>Once Gavin finishes reading through what Jack’s got of the script, they talk through the bits they both like and decide to build on that. That’s all they have time for, though, because Gavin has that group meeting for another project, but that’s fine. With Jack’s attentiveness and the two of them working together, Gavin’s confident that they’ll get a script out in the next few days. <strong>Teeeeeamwork, makes the dreeeeeam work. </strong>They arrange to meet up again a couple of days later after uni and then Jack walks Gavin to his door.</p><p>“Hey, Gavin?” Jack calls out just before Gavin leaves.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Thanks. For today,” Jack gives him a little nod, and Gavin beams.</p><p>“You’re welcome.”</p><hr/><p>Another two meetings that week, and they finish off the first draft of the script. They’ll need to edit it, but now they’ve at least got a full script to work with.</p><p>Just as Gavin’s about to leave, he remembers something.</p><p>“We’ve only got two filming locations,” he says. “Do you happen to know anywhere we could film? I’ve asked all my friends, and most of the places I’ve seen aren’t suitable.”</p><p>“Well, we’ve got the bakery and the park,” Jack says. Then he bites his lip before adding, “I’ve scouted a place that we could film in – there’s enough space, the lighting is okay, there’s space to set up audio – but I don’t think that we can use it.”</p><p>
  <strong>At this point, Jack’s mentality is that, ‘I have a contribution, but it’s a really shitty one because it’s literally a duplicate of what we already have, and Gavin’s going to think I’m a shitty teammate, and I can’t afford to let someone that good down (again, even though he didn’t mind the first time).’</strong>
</p><p>“Sure we can,” Gavin challenges, because they’ve got to try, right? “Try me.” And when Jack doesn’t say anything, Gavin adds, “No matter how ridiculous it is.”</p><p>
  <strong>My thinking was that Jack would interpret ‘No matter how ridiculous it is’ as: Gavin won’t <em>just </em>dismiss me as shitty; at the very least, we’ll talk things out. So those are magic words for Jack.</strong>
</p><p>“It’s a restaurant,” Jack says in a rush, after a moment’s hesitation. “But we’ve already got a restaurant. Well, it’s a bakery, but they’re pretty much the same thing, setting wise.”</p><p>“Not if they look different. What kind of place is it?”</p><p>“It’s a barbeque place. Rudy’s. It’s a rustic kind of place, with lots of wooden wall panels.”</p><p>“That’s different enough,” Gavin hums. “Let’s do it.”</p><p>“Yeah, but…” Jack sighs. “<em>Two </em>– what is essentially – restaurants in the same short film? I don’t think the markers will be happy with that. The whole point of the assignment is to film in a variety of locations, which I assume also means different <em>types </em>of places, not just three restaurants or something like that. And story-wise, it doesn’t make much sense to have a spy story set in so many restaurants.”</p><p>“I’m sure there are movies out there with like, ten different cafes in the same movie. But I see what you mean,” Gavin says. “Hmm…”</p><p>It takes him a minute to think, and to Gavin’s surprise, Jack actually gives him that time to think. It seems like everything Jack does surprises Gavin somehow.</p><p>Then it comes to him.</p><p>“What about the kitchens, in Lindsay’s bakery?” Gavin says. “When I scouted it, I remember that there were these giant kitchens in the back.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t it be the same as filming in the kitchens of Rudy’s?”</p><p>“Not unless Rudy’s has tons of cake ovens and nothing else, no.”</p><p>At this, Jack nods, breathing out a whoosh of air strong enough to be an airbender. “Okay, then. We can try filming at Rudy’s. Gavin, I – ”</p><p>He pauses, giving Gavin an odd look. His eyes have taken on this shiny look now. Is there…something <em>fond</em> to it?</p><p>Gavin has no idea.</p><p>“What is it?” Gavin tilts his head to the side in contemplation.</p><p>Jack blinks quickly. The shininess in them is gone now, but they are much softer than they usually are – less tense, Gavin thinks.</p><p>Then Jack shakes his head and says, “Nothing. Nothing bad, anyway.”</p><p>
  <strong>I intended for this to be a moment where Jack falls deeper in love with Gavin. This is another time where Gavin cared about, respected, encouraged, and addressed his pedantic questions. All in a way that bowls through all of his insecurities like they’re nothing. And in a way that lets him be <em>him, </em>without having to hold back. Like, I imagine that Jack’s heart is pounding triple time right now.</strong>
</p><p>And with a satisfied hum, Jack goes back to the dining table and resumes packing up his stuff, which he’d left to languish in a messy pile to walk Gavin to the door.</p><p>“I’ll let you know when Rudy’s gets back to me. By the way, would you be willing to come scout it out with me?”</p><hr/><p>Two days later, they have lunch at Rudy’s before their scout.</p><p>During lunch, they talk about other things, like video games and movies. After they finish their food, Jack goes to the bathroom and while he’s gone, Gavin looks around for lack of anything better to do, noticing the décor for the first time.</p><p>There’s a neon sign of Texas. A widescreen TV on the back wall. Signs of beer logos on rustic wooden wall panels at the drinks bar. Framed pictures of sports teams and signed baseball shirts. Flags of different countries hanging from the ceiling. Soft overhead lights, fluorescent but otherwise charming. Communal dining tables with red-and-white checked tablecloths and plastic folding chairs. The sizzling of steaks in the background, though that’s not décor. <strong>Cheers to Google images for pictures of Rudy’s. It really does look like a vibrant, communal place. </strong>Even with almost no-one here, it’s still lively and vibrant. Like finding yourself after being lost. <strong>I was going to incorporate a line from the movie Star Trek: Beyond about how people change, they have to, or they’ll be stuck fighting the same battles (i.e. they’ll keep being lost), and that change would be a link to evolution and growth. But I couldn’t figure out how to do it, so all that was left was this little hint towards it.</strong></p><p>Like the spy discovering there’s more to life than just money.</p><p>“We could film in here,” Gavin rattles off when Jack comes back. At Jack’s confused look, he explains, “I was just thinking – we’ve been having trouble trying to differentiate the two restaurants from each other; other than using the kitchen for one and the seating area for the other, of course. So how about we have different types of scenes in each restaurant? The spy and traitor could have confrontations in here or in the bakery – maybe in the kitchen there, cos it’s got more space?</p><p>“It’s not like we can use all the locations we scouted anyway,” Gavin adds. “Like that side-street, since we can’t control whether cars park there or not. And we need somewhere for confrontations, doesn’t have to be a warehouse we can’t get. Then we can have some scenes here – well, in whatever other restaurant we get,” Gavin hastily corrects himself because he can’t just <em>assume </em>that they can use specific locations until they get confirmation.</p><p>“That’s fine. We’ll still reference the weapons stores but we won’t show them explicitly, then. But if we’re using the kitchen in the bakery for confrontations, what scenes were you thinking of having in the other restaurant?”</p><p>“Maybe have the spy speculate, or something?” Gavin says. Then a light bulb goes off in his head. “What if we have the spy watch the traitor interact with a waiter, and the traitor is all happy and stuff, and that’s how the spy realizes that there’s more to life than just money?” <strong>Whoops, forgot to have a waiter walk past and have Gavin use that as inspiration for the traitor interacting with a waiter.</strong></p><p>Jack thinks it over. “That sounds good. Maybe we could have the spy confront the traitor as well?”</p><p>“Maybe not confront, we have that already,” Gavin says, because there are a couple of confrontations between the spy and traitor already and he doesn’t want to overdo it. “Maybe we could have the spy question the traitor about their motives for betraying their agency instead?”</p><p>“Great,” Jack nods. “If we keep it to just dialogue, then we won’t have to film a chase scene, which makes things much easier production-wise.” <strong>That said, though, it’s definitely easier to plan big and then scale down later. People will always want to reduce things as much as possible – money, time, etc., and of course that’s needed. But I learnt that if you don’t ask for something then there’s <em>no </em>chance of getting it, as opposed to asking for something that seems too big and <em>maybe </em>getting it.</strong></p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>“We’ll ask the owners for permission to film here on the way out. Why do you like this place, specifically?” <strong>I learnt that when you are asking for permission to film somewhere, it’s a good idea to say <em>why </em>you want to film in that specific place (maybe it’s a fast food place with a deep fryer that the main character is working at as their part-time job, or the 1950s style building at uni would be a good fit for your retro film).</strong></p><p>“I like the look of it. All rustic and friendly and homely. With all the stuff on the walls it feels unique but familiar at the same time.” <strong>I’m trying to imagine how Jack would translate that to the owners of Rudy’s, given that I don’t provide this dialogue explicitly. Maybe something eloquent about how the friendly, warm atmosphere is appropriate for the themes of personal growth in the film.</strong></p><p>“Sounds good. We’ll have to get clearance to use all the artwork here, but we’re using this for a university project, not for public distribution, so it should be fine.” <strong>When watching the videos I used for the location scouting part, they also talked about how you’d have to send pictures of any artwork in the location to your legal team to make sure it’s clear for usage in the film. Yes, legal <em>team. </em>When I first heard this I was like wtf<em>, </em>and that was the moment I realised that filmmaking was so much more complicated than I thought it was.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>And like, these sorts of little things are just – unbelievably miniscule yet so important, and therefore exactly the kinds of things Jack would be an expert in.</strong>
</p><p>And that’s that. They scout out Rudy’s – only just big enough for camera equipment, but the owners offer to let them film there for free as long as they film after-hours, and Jack had brought the paperwork, which they sign then and there – and then they go back to Jack’s place and start re-writing the script.</p><p>
  <strong>One of the tips for securing locations for free at local businesses you frequent is to offer them a deal, such as offering to film a promotional video for them as a trade for letting you film there for free or at a discounted rate. Compensation, if you will, for the time spent using the location and for whatever damages might be caused. I’m not entirely sure what the compensation Jack offered them for this, though. And I forgot to incorporate the necessity of providing compensation for actors other than food; sending them the footage, for instance, to use in acting reels. Also, cheers to the location scout videos for the hint to bring the paperwork along with you while scouting.</strong>
</p><p>Now that they’ve got the first draft to guide them and switched the warehouse location to a restaurant, re-writing the script only takes them a couple more meetings. Gavin reminds Jack not to get preoccupied with storyboards or shot lists or vision boards until they’ve finished the script. <strong>Reminding him of the big picture. </strong>Jack sometimes glances over at the pile of storyboards on the dining table, but he leaves them be and they keep going with the writing.</p><p>The day after they finish the second draft, they edit it over Google Docs during their respective breaks between classes.</p><p>Jack sends him back the final script that night, saying that he’s happy with it, and that he’s done a ‘script breakdown’. In Gavin’s experience, that could mean anything from ‘annotated with ideas for set dressing’ to ‘I re-wrote the script’.</p><p>But when Gavin opens it up, he’s met with the final script, except that it’s colour-coded and broken down into strips. It’s coded for each of the elements of the film, Gavin notes faintly as his breath catches, with a different colour for props, costumes, cast members, extras, stunts – with a list for each category at the bottom for each scene and the strips grouped together by location. He’s <em>actually </em>done a script breakdown<em>.</em></p><p>
  <strong>I first learnt about script breakdowns during research for pre-production stuff, and it seems so useful. It lumps all the production elements of a film, and when you’re juggling vehicles, animals, extras, props (a glass of water, for instance, counts as both a glass item and a liquid item) and who knows what else in a feature film, the stuff you need adds up fast and is even harder to keep track of. There’s script breakdown software that does this automatically, and I don’t entirely know whether Jack would have used such software or done it all by hand. Probably wouldn’t have mattered too much; this is 20 pages of a short film, not 120 pages like a feature film.</strong>
</p><p>They’d agreed during their last meeting that once the script was done they’d write up their own shot lists individually and then compare them. <strong>Apparently this is what directors and cinematographers do as well, so in a sense they’re falling into their roles I commented earlier already. </strong>Over the week, they do so over Zoom; it’s easier to edit the shot list over Cloud together that way, and this way they can squeeze in meetings late at night, long after meetings for other group projects have wrapped up. <strong>As in, they’ll be meeting over Zoom at 11pm at night. That kind of late.</strong></p><p>Jack’s version is far more detailed than Gavin’s, or any he’s seen before. It includes all the shot specs - shot size, angles, framing, focus, camera movement and a description of the shot. <strong>Usually shot lists aren’t so detailed, but I figured that if Jack was making them they should be as detailed as possible; it also helped me keep track of things so I didn’t miss anything while writing. They don’t use camera movement much in the film, though. </strong>Gavin double-checks it against the project brief, and everything required is in there…in the same order as the brief, which – yeah, Gavin has no idea how Jack managed that. <strong>Gotta sneak in Jack doing even more things quite literally. Also inspired how Jack’s good at following instructions but not improvising on his own, as per his Lego building. </strong>Gavin points out that the shots don’t have to be in literally the exact same order listed in the brief, and he points out some things that Jack had overlooked – mainly certain camera angles that wouldn’t work in the location Jack’s used them in <strong>Gavin knows these things because he’s a 24/7 location scout, hence why the test photos and videos he sent to Jack were so good </strong>– but other than that, their shot lists are pretty much the same. They run through the shot list from end to end, make a couple of minor changes, and the shot list is done.</p><p>After that, Jack gets to drawing the storyboards while Gavin refines Jack’s vision board on Pinterest. Jack’s pinned a <em>lot </em>of stuff; he’s very thorough, but there’s so much there that it’s hard to tell what he was going for specifically, like highlighting all the words on a page. <strong>Like how he wrote copious notes on the ideas he brainstormed for the film. </strong>Now that they’ve got the script and shot list, it’s mostly narrowing things down, which is relatively simple.</p><p>What emerges is a collage of modern and rustic, cool and warm, of barren offices with computers, of cozy restaurants, of open parks bathed in golden light. It feels like it’s coming to life already, and Gavin’s suddenly grateful to Jack. He doesn’t regret putting it off – in fact, it might have been the thing that saved it – but the vision board really is helpful. The few times they’ve come up in other projects, it’s mostly people dumping images of whatever they watched on TV last week rather than anything relevant to the project. Or worse, the vision board is the first and only thing they do the entire project.</p><p>Gavin lets Jack know that the vision board is done, and Jack emails him the storyboards, and after checking that they’re all good with both, that’s it.</p><p>And as Gavin goes to bed that night, his mind races. It feels like they’re on the home stretch even though they haven’t even started filming yet. <strong>They’ve been on this project for…five weeks, so far? Two of which were Jack trying to write the script the first time (and they didn’t meet up). So it’s been quick, for sure. </strong>The project has been just as intense as it’d been suggested in the brief – more so, Gavin thinks, remembering the tattered scripts in Jack’s dining room – and he knew from the start that working with just one person would either be the best or worst thing ever. If things keep going the way they do, Jack will be the best person that Gavin has ever worked with. Might already be.</p><p>Jack communicates more than anyone Gavin’s met. He’s caring. He’s considerate. He <em>tries</em>. <strong>And that’s so important. At the end of the day, it’s not about making a perfect film. It’s about the effort they’re putting in, it’s the reaching out, it’s the <em>trying</em>. It’s how they <em>grow, </em>together, as communicators and filmmakers. </strong>He cares about all the little details. He works hard. This project – <em>he </em>– has been a refuge amongst other shitty group projects, and he wonders what it would be like, spending time with him outside the project like they did at Rudy’s. Of learning more about him, about his life in Austin. Of playing more video games together.</p><p>But it feels like everything is moving too fast, and there’s still a long way to go <strong>because Gavin has no idea what Jack’s like on set, and it’s always the nice ones that’ll fuck him over the most, isn’t it?</strong>, so he pushes those thoughts aside in favour of going over all the things they need to do before shooting.</p><p>Script is done, budget is none, crew is just them, shot list is done, storyboards are done, location scouting is done, actors will be needed, paperwork needs to be finalised, shooting schedules will be figured out once they get the actors, cameras and lighting and sound gear will be rented from uni, props and costumes will be from the theatre department, and craft services and catering – other than Rudy’s, because Jack had worked out a deal there – will be snacks bought from Costco and takeaway from fast food places nearby. <strong>I wanted this quick review of pre-production so that 1) readers could comprehend the process a bit better, and 2) I could make sure I hadn’t missed anything.</strong></p><p>Gavin emails him about actors and paperwork, and over the weekend Jack sends copies of signed location agreements, permits and uni-provided insurance forms. Nothing about actors, though. They can’t do anything else until they know who will be in it – schedules and such – but it seems crass to ask about it over email. <strong>I imagine that emailing, “Hey, you didn’t answer whether you knew anyone who could be in the film…” wouldn’t go well. </strong>Gavin could wait to ask him when they meet up next week but that’s a week they could spend finalizing equipment and shooting schedules.</p><p>So the next day, Gavin decides to ask him during their lecture.</p><hr/><p>The lecture’s not compulsory, so Gavin doesn’t normally go to it – he prefers to watch them online – so he doesn’t even know if Jack will be there or not. But sure enough, Jack is waiting outside the lecture room. There are a few other students, talking in a group, but Jack is standing away from them, alone. He’s watching them, something wistful to it.</p><p>Gavin doesn’t have time to process it because Jack lights up the moment he sees him.</p><p>“Hey, Gavin!” Jack grins.</p><p>Gavin rushes over to him without thinking, but Jack seems to have had the same idea, because suddenly they’re skidding to a halt in front of each other and holy shit that’s nice aftershave. Gavin’s heart starts pounding at how close their faces are, at the flushed look on Jack’s face that surely matches his own.</p><p>If this were a movie this would be where they do close-up shots, intercutting between their wide-eyed faces –</p><p>“Excuse me,” someone says.</p><p>They jump apart. The someone walks between them, and Gavin faintly registers that it’s the lecturer – Gavin recognizes his voice from lecture recordings – and that they were standing right in front of the doors to the lecture room.</p><p>Gavin’s cheeks heat, but Jack’s already heading in, so Gavin follows him.</p><p>Jack makes a beeline for the aisle seat in the front row. Once seated, he pulls out the fold-away desk, which is barely big enough for a MacBook let alone anything else. As Gavin sits next to him, Jack swears, puts the desk back, gets a notebook out from his bag then pulls the desk back in front of him. As he does so, Gavin notices that the edge of the desk is pressing against Jack’s round stomach and oh God he didn’t even think about that, and he subconsciously sucks in his own stomach in response. Gavin curses when Jack notices before he can look away.</p><p>
  <strong>The fitting into college desks part was inspired by some mature aged students I met IRL who had similar struggles, and left-handed desks was something I picked up on while I was at uni, since whenever we had mid-term exams in the lecture theatres they’d get the left-handed people to pick their desks first, i.e. the ones in the aisles, which were left-handed.</strong>
</p><p>"I'm fat," Jack says so matter of factly that Gavin’s mouth drops open.</p><p>"Um – I,” Gavin stammers, looking for something to say. “You’re not. I mean, if they’re gonna make us deal with these tiny desks then they could at least give us more room,” he says, because that’s true if nothing else. <strong>Seriously, some of those college desks are miniature. And some of them tilted sideways, or worse <em>backwards</em>, so if you weren’t careful your laptop or notebook would slip right off and under the seat in front of you. Not speaking from personal experience… *shady look*.</strong></p><p>"At least this one's left-handed," Jack sighs as he writes the date at the top of the page with – well, his left hand. "Some lecture rooms don't have any, and the ones that do only have them in the aisles.”</p><p>Gavin looks around the room and sure enough, all the desks in front of the other students are right-handed except for a couple in the aisles.</p><p>“Wait, aren’t like, ten percent of all uni students left-handed?”</p><p>“Yeah. It makes it pretty shit in exams."</p><p>“That’s well awful.” <strong>Seriously, I feel for all the left-handers out there.</strong></p><p>“Mmhmm,” Jack hums easily.</p><p>“Why the front row, then?” Gavin asks, because he can’t do anything about getting better desks. <strong>He could try sitting to the right of an empty seat then lifting the college desk of the empty seat to his left so that its right-handed desk could be a left-handed desk…it’s just a theory though (A <em>Game</em> Theory – sorry).</strong></p><p>“I listen better when I’m at the front,” Jack says, giving him a rueful smile when Gavin raises his eyebrows at him, because Jack needs to do stuff to be serious? “It’s also the only row where the left-handed desk is guaranteed to be free because no-one wants to sit here.”</p><p>That makes sense. Jack is a Good Student, unlike Gavin, who only attends the last lecture of each subject for final exam tips and 'watches' the rest online while strolling on the treadmill with Michael and Jeremy at the uni gym. <strong>Gavin doesn’t seem the type to go to the gym, but there’s something amusing to me about Gavin strolling on a treadmill and pulling his smug face while Michael and Jeremy are hitting it hard. Also, lecture rooms are packed during the last lecture, and not so much any other time.</strong></p><p>Then the lecturer starts talking and Gavin curses under his breath when he realises that he forgot to ask Jack about actors for their project.</p><p>They're in the front row, so they can't talk without the lecturer hearing them. He can’t email him since Jack didn't bring his laptop. They’d exchanged phone numbers the other day <strong>Gavin likes him enough for phone numbers, a reference to the first scene, and I wanted this to be addressed casually as a way of showing the fast-slow way Gavin liking him happened </strong>but he doesn’t think it's a good idea to try to secretly text each other, especially not under these tiny college desks, though he’s more concerned with the dirty look Jack’s giving him as he goes to pull out his phone. <strong>Because lectures are Serious Business to Jack. </strong>Gavin mouths <em>sorry </em>at him, and Jack nods before turning back to face the lecturer.</p><p>Gavin takes one look at the lecture title and promptly turns away. It’s on white balancing for different light conditions, which he and Jack had already done during their camera tests weeks ago.</p><p>Jack’s intently focused on his notetaking, but Gavin needs to ask him now, before he forgets again.</p><p>He curses internally when he realizes he didn’t bring anything with him to write on; he thought he’d be able to just ask and leave before the lecture started. With someone more easy-going, he’d just nab their notebook and write notes to them, but he doesn’t think Jack –  who has carefully ruled his page for Cornell note-taking –  would appreciate it. <strong>I figured that if anyone’s going to know a specific note-taking method, it’s going to be super-organised Jack.</strong></p><p>He gently taps his finger on an empty section of Jack’s notebook and once he notices, Gavin whispers into his ear, “Can I borrow some paper from you?” <strong>no I did not have to borrow paper from other people sometimes because I forgot… *deer-in-headlights look* </strong>And once Jack carefully tears out a page with a raised eyebrow, “…and a pen? I need to ask you something,” Gavin explains as Jack’s expression shifts to exasperation, even as he hands a spare pen over.</p><p>Gavin writes a note on the borrowed paper and hands it over.</p><p>
  <strong>*We need actors for our project. Know anyone who could be in it?</strong>
</p><p>Jack stops writing and stares at the note. His eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights, which is. Not encouraging. Maybe Gavin didn’t make himself clear enough? He grabs the note back and adds:</p><p>
  <strong>*Friends? Classmates? Anyone?</strong>
</p><p>Which – yep, definitely sounds insensitive, he thinks after he hands it over, since Jack’s face doesn’t change. This is why Gavin didn’t want to ask this over email, or write it at all, really. He snatches the note and scribbles on it again.</p><p>
  <strong>*They don’t have to be professionals or anything. Could be people down the street. Or people who live in your apartment building. Just having them as extras is fine.</strong>
</p><p>Jack bites his lip. This time, he hovers his pen over the note. Finally, he writes something down and hands it back to Gavin.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>*Ask me again during the break.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Gavin furrows his eyebrows, because that’s vague, isn’t it? <strong>After all, he didn’t say yes or no. </strong>But Jack’s already turned back to his note-taking, so Gavin decides to wait.</p><p>The moment break rolls around Gavin turns to him. “So, do you know anyone who could be in the film?”</p><p>Jack purses his lips, studiously avoiding Gavin’s eyes. “Not really. Do you?”</p><p>“Yeah, I have some friends who do theatre. But I don’t want the cast to just be people I know.”</p><p>“Thanks, but…” Jack trails off.</p><p>“They don’t have to be young, either,” Gavin says hastily, pausing awkwardly when Jack looks up and raises his eyebrows at him. “If you. You know. Were worried about that. Your friends – they’re probably all mature aged students, right?”</p><p>Because maybe Jack’s friends are all mature aged students and he’s worried they might not fit in with Gavin’s friends, who are, for the most part, young at heart and not as straight-laced as Jack is. He wouldn’t be the first person that Gavin’s worked with who’s worried about something like that. <strong>One thing I noticed while I was at uni was that mature aged students tended to gravitate towards each other, sought each other out because of the greater chance of commonalities and because they felt they didn’t quite fit in with the young-at-heart school-leavers.</strong></p><p>“They would be, yes,” Jack says evenly. His face is blank but his eyes are too calm, too stilted.</p><p>Too hollow.</p><p>That’s when it hits him. The wistful way Jack had watched the group of students chatting outside the lecture theatre. How he’d been in the car when they were driving back to uni after visiting Geoff. <em>This.</em> <strong>Dun dun duuuuuun.</strong></p><p>“Jack…um, if I’m being insensitive, stop me. But…you don’t…have friends?”</p><p>Jack laughs, dark and bitter. “No.”</p><p>
  <strong>I knew from the start that I wanted Jack to not have friends, but it didn’t really cement itself in my head until I read the lovely comment left on the extract I posted a few months ago, saying that they were intrigued by Jack not having friends. It eventually blossomed into an examination of the differences between how mature aged and school-leavers connected with their fellow students, and Jack also being a kind of I-tend-not-to-reach-out-to-people kind of guy. A very literal case of, ‘I don’t really – talk, with that many people.’</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Combine that with Jack being that awkward in-between of too serious for the school-leavers but not far enough in life for the mature aged students with kids and there’s a recipe for feeling very alone while at uni.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It’s not explored much in this fic, though, because it’s just Jack and Gavin, and it’s from Gavin’s POV, and Gavin’s never cared for the differences between mature aged students and school-leavers; they’re all here for the same reason, and students are students, you know? That’s part of why he gets so annoyed at how so many of the people he’s worked with talked themselves up, many of whom happen to be mature aged students.</strong>
</p><p>“But – you’re so <em>nice. </em>I mean, surely – mature aged students? People down the street? In your apartment building? In your other classes? In <em>this </em>class?”</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin literally told himself the previous night that he would <em>not </em>be jumping ahead because he doesn’t know what someone is like until he’s on set with them. Yet he’s said that Jack is nice, even before getting on set, and he fully means it, too. Means it so much that – </strong>
</p><p>Gavin looks around the lecture room, because maybe Jack did know someone here but they had a timetable clash for the computer labs, which was why they hadn’t worked together for the project in the first place. He notices two groups of people around Jack’s age, clumped together with the other students in the back; the ones who hadn’t left during the break, at least.</p><p>Nodding at the first group, he says, “There’s a group of mature aged students right there.”</p><p>Jack follows his gaze, then shakes his head. “They don’t play video games.”</p><p>“And the other group…”</p><p>“Are all married with kids.” Jack gives him a tight smile as he explains, “Most mature aged students are. Or they don’t play video games, or if they do then they only play first-person shooters, which I’m terrible at.”</p><p>“And the younger students…” Gavin trails off, even as he knows the answer, just based off how Jack is as a person. <strong>Jack is a serious, meticulous, attentive to detail type. Not the kind of person people typically look at and think, ‘wow, this guy is a bubble of laughs and jokes!’ And the thing is, he’s <em>not.</em> And he doesn’t need to be – shouldn’t feel like he has to be. But it’s hard to reconcile their vitality with Jack’s steady maturity, and I think he feels like he <em>has </em>to be more ‘young’ than he actually is.</strong></p><p>“I can’t relate to them. I don’t watch any of the movies or TV shows they do, and they don’t know a thing about mine. I didn’t come straight out of high school. All the things in life they care about go over my head. I’m too boring and old-fashioned to them,” he says the last part with bite, and Gavin’s heart clenches. <strong>Remember the last time Jack said something with bite?</strong></p><p>“Oh, I never thought about that…” Gavin says, because he hasn’t.</p><p>Making friends isn’t easy and he tends to latch onto people and annoy them until they like him, like a fungus. Mature aged students stick out like sore thumbs at uni, and he can’t imagine how much harder it would be for someone so reserved – and <em>different </em>– like Jack. Where even the other mature aged students didn’t like him.</p><p>There’s a clear divide between mature aged students and school-leavers. Mature aged with mature aged, school leaver with school leaver; for friendships and group projects. Before he kept getting burned by them, older students had always seemed surprised that Gavin was willing to work with them without having to be asked by lecturers. But he’d never given it any thought.</p><p>
  <strong>Remember how Gavin said, right at the beginning, that he doesn’t like the way mature aged students tend to be during group projects? This is the moment he realizes that maybe it’s a <em>good </em>thing he has that dilemma, because that means he’s actually willing to work with them in the first place. That he’s willing to <em>try. </em>And isn’t trying the hard part?</strong>
</p><p>He imagines Jack feeling that same apprehension and cringes at the thought. Because – well, hadn’t Gavin been snippy at him, back when Jack had asked whether they could work together or not? He can imagine what assumptions Jack must have jumped to: that Gavin hated mature aged students, just like many school-leavers actually do. He needs to apologise for giving off that impression, to explain why he’d been like that.</p><p>
  <strong>That one line from Gavin was literally their only moment of hostility the entire story, but I figured that in retrospect, the assumptions Gavin drew about him seemed pretty harsh, and I wanted to address that (as much as possible at this stage).</strong>
</p><p>Jack deserves that. No matter how things end up going down on set <strong>this is meant to be a call-back to their first meeting in Jack’s apartment, where Gavin realizes he needs to be honest with Jack about not liking his ideas because the amount of thought he’s put into it deserves that kind of honesty </strong>(because you never really know what someone is like until you work with them on set, do you?). <strong>Also a call-back to Gavin’s initial doubts about Jack, about how isn’t it always the nice ones that screw you over the most.</strong></p><p>“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. Jack considers him, seeming to realise that he means more than just for how he doesn’t have friends even amongst the older students. “That you don’t have any friends. But also for being so snippy at you when we first met. I didn’t mean to give off the impression that you were – I don’t know, too old, or old-fashioned, or – ”</p><p>He’s fumbling his words again, but Jack waits, patiently. <strong>He’s wondering what Gavin’s going to say. And this is the first time someone has so openly brought up the elephant in the room: Jack being a mature-aged student and so clearly <em>older </em>in mentality to match.</strong></p><p>“I’ve just…worked with a lot of bad people,” Gavin finally manages to say. “People who don’t care about the projects we have to do.</p><p>“I don’t – I don’t want you to think that your age matters,” Gavin continues, trying to go over all the things he told Geoff, back when they first became friends and Geoff was struggling to make other friends. “It doesn’t. You can still make friends and stuff. You can still work with people. You just have to find people who understand.”</p><p>“Like you?” <strong>Because Jack’s realized, by now, that Gavin is completely different. Gavin <em>gets </em>him in a way that nobody else does. He doesn’t belittle him, whether it’s for worrying about all the little things or being concerned about logistics or not knowing everything like most people think mature aged students should.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>He doesn’t even give him empty platitudes; instead, he acknowledges the issue and then addresses it. They <em>talk </em>about things. And even though they are just group teammates, they’ve been working so closely together that it feels like something close to friends (more, he suddenly thinks, back when he’d been in a panic over not being able to write the script, and Gavin not caring and cheering him up anyway. Of how it hadn’t just been a momentary comfort; he’d offered to help out even when he didn’t have to, had believed in Jack even when he didn’t believe in himself, how he’d diverted Jack’s attention from the storyboards back to the script when they were still writing it yet had never treated Jack as a burden, and had actively put in the effort to get them to work <em>together </em>even when Jack had resisted it at first out of stubbornness and a sense of duty).</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>So when Gavin comforts him over his status as a mature aged student, tells him that it’s not an age thing, it’s about finding people who understand, of <em>course</em> Jack’s going to say that he already has, to the very person who showed him all that in the first place: Gavin.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin gasps, because Jack sounds so. <em>Earnest</em>. He’s smiling, like he didn’t just literally put all his cards on the table. <strong>To Jack, it’s not a shock. To Jack, it’s been this inevitable rapid-quick-slow fall into looooove as they worked on the project together.</strong></p><p>Gavin’s head just. Blanks out.</p><p>He must have stayed silent for too long because Jack hums thoughtfully and leans back in his chair. <strong>Jack recognizes that he’s rendered Gavin speechless. That sometimes, Gavin doesn’t know what to say (such as after Jack told him why he wasn’t able to write the script – because Gavin was such a good cinematographer and he didn’t want to let him down). And he’s not taken aback by that; just takes it into his stride, moves on with the conversation.</strong></p><p>“I accept your apology. And it’s okay, Gavin. You don’t have to say anything. About any of it.”</p><p>Part of him wants to. Wants to tell him of all the times he’s worked with mature aged students, good and bad. All the people he has met. <strong>In retrospect, that’s pretty interesting, considering Gavin doesn’t even remember most of the film sets he’s been on because they’ve been so bad. But there have been good bits and bad bits, and that’s what he wants to tell him – what he <em>does </em>tell him, later on, while they’re filming the time-lapse. </strong>Of all the ways Jack has been literally the best teammate Gavin has ever had. But that would be jumping the gun.</p><p>“Thanks,” he says, instead. It feels inadequate, somehow, but Jack accepts it.</p><p>They settle into relative silence as the rest of the students wander back in. The lecturer comes back in, too, and that’s when Gavin remembers something.</p><p>“When I asked you during the lecture, whether you knew anyone. Why did you say, ‘ask me later’? You could have just said no. I would have accepted it. Or – well, that’s not right. I would have double checked with you, just to make sure. But I wouldn’t have forced you to like. Rally up people or something.”</p><p>Jack hesitates, then admits, “Most people don’t accept it when I say I don’t know anyone. They think I’m just pretending. I also didn’t know how to tell you over email. What could I say, ‘No, I don’t know anyone?’ I…wasn’t sure if you’d believe me. Other people haven’t.”</p><p>“I mean, it would have been an answer at least,” Gavin says, because until then, Jack had been avoiding the question.</p><p>“That’s true.”</p><p>“What happens, then?”</p><p>Jack shrugs. “Usually they don’t ask again, but sometimes I’ve had to say that all my friends are ‘busy’.”</p><p>Gavin’s eyes widen. “So having me keep asking you…”</p><p>“Yeah. I wanted to tell you the truth. I just – couldn’t get it out. Doesn’t matter anyway,” he chuckles darkly. “You figured it out.”</p><p>“I’ve been around a lot of mature aged students,” Gavin says gently. <strong>And only now is he realizing just how much of an effect it’s had on how he sees things: both good and bad. </strong>“Geoff was the same way.”</p><p>“He was?” Jack asks skeptically.</p><p>“Yeah. Most people don’t want to talk to tattooed ex-roadie gamers, as it turns out,” Gavin laughs about it now, but it’d been a tough thing at the time. “I worked with him on a group project my first semester here. He said I was the first person to approach him in the two years he’d been here.”</p><p>Jack’s eyes widen. “I imagine that would have been nice for him. What subject was it?”</p><p>“Editing. For writing,” Gavin adds at Jack’s furrowed eyebrows. <strong>And for clarification, Gavin’s terrible group teammates have only been the ones for cinematography, because Geoff is awesome. </strong>“He does a journalism degree. That’s probably why he’s not in any of your classes. Wait, what degree do you do?”</p><p>“Film degree, producing and cinematography,” Jack answers. “What about you?”</p><p>“Film degree, cinematography but also photography. Switched to it after a semester in an arts degree.”</p><p>They talk about that for a bit, but then they fall into silence again. The lecturer is still setting up the next batch of slides. <strong>I realise that lecturers coming back from a break probably don’t take that long to set up, but Gavin and Jack’s conversation was more important to the story than full realism, so.</strong></p><p>“I wanted to ask you because I thought it would even things up if half the cast were people you knew and half were people I knew,” Gavin says, because it’s still bothering him.</p><p>“Thanks Gavin,” Jack smiles at him. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.” Gavin smiles back.</p><p>Then he comes up with an idea.</p><p>“Hey, um. I could introduce you to all of my friends, if you wanted? Once we’re on set? All of them are like Geoff – well, they’re mostly my age, but we all play video games and stuff. Not just shooters, either.”</p><p>Jack beams at him. “Thanks, that’d be lovely.”</p><p>
  <strong>And that’s the end of chapter one! Which comprises, like, half the fic haha.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I wrote the entire story in chronological order, so writing this chapter is when I did the most research about filmmaking (and had to pick up the most knowledge). It’s also where I was most concerned about characterization and relationship dynamics for a couple of reasons: 1) this chapter is where the foundations of both were established and I didn’t want the foundations to be shaky, and 2) this is my first RT fanfic and there are very few Jackvin fics, so I didn’t have many references to draw from.</strong>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. BTS: Principal photography</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>I first came up with the idea to split this story into chapters, based on the stages of production (pre, principal, post) while writing the end of chapter one. I was originally going to have the first chapter and half of the second from Gavin’s POV then switch to Jack’s POV for the rest of the story, to follow him along the editing side (since he would be doing all of it). But the more I wrote it, the more I realised that the story worked better just from Gavin’s POV, mainly for pacing reasons. Still, I tend to keep the POV of character’s whose perspectives I’m <em>not </em>writing from at the back of my mind, which is why so much of this commentary is focussed on Jack’s perspective.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>But first of all, we have to finish up pre-production.</strong>
</p><p>In retrospect, everything on set happens in a blur.</p><p>But Gavin doesn’t know that at the time. This is how things go.</p><p>Lindsay and Jeremy are happy to be in the film, even after Gavin tells them that most of them will be after-hour shoots at night due to location availability. <strong>Even though it’s glossed over here, I learnt that it’s super important to give people plenty of time to prepare for overnight shoots, e.g. to readjust their sleeping patterns. </strong>The day after, the four of them meet up in a group study room at uni to do a readthrough of the script, bringing snacks to keep it casual.</p><p>They don’t have time to do anything but the readthrough, so Gavin doesn’t really get the chance to introduce them to Jack, but it’s still nice, even as jarring as it is to see Jack being such a consummate professional – more like a studio exec than a uni student – now that he knows exactly how he laughs. <strong>I imagined Jack as steely and stiff, cautious and apprehensive, but powering through it all anyway.</strong></p><p>A week later, they meet up again to do a rehearsal. On Jack’s suggestion, and with Lindsay’a and Jeremy’s permission, Gavin films it as a test run of blocking and performances. <strong>This was a tip I found online, but I can’t remember where. Either way, cheers to the source.</strong></p><p>It’s incredibly useful, Gavin finds, as the four of them watch the playback together. Lindsay’s testing different deliveries of the dialogue with her voice acting chops, and is much more relaxed than she’s been during other projects of Gavin’s she’s been part of;  she’ll end up telling him later that it’s because Jack’s the first person since Gavin to not expect the script to be fully memorized in a night. Jeremy is pouring over the storyboards – which Jack had brought along, something Gavin never would have thought to bring – and he chimes in with suggestions about how he can help the camera capture more footage for the story. It feels like they’re already on set and everything is meshing so well.</p><p>
  <strong>Part of this is inspired by a line from ‘every student film set’, where one of the lines the ‘director’ said was, ‘I just sent over the script last night; I expect you to be <em>fully </em>memorised’. The other part is how Bringing the storyboard along is something that’s really clever but also something not many people would think of, but the moment I read it online I knew it was something Jack would do. And Jeremy is committed to the bit, and getting all the action on camera, until the very end, so it worked out nicely.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin can’t afford to get complacent, but he’s proud of them all and it feels like things are coming together.</p><p>After that, it’s time for final arrangements. They confirm locations with everyone and arrange to pick up costumes, props and all their equipment from uni the afternoon before their first night of filming. Jack makes up the shooting schedule and call sheets, which Gavin sends to Lindsay, Jeremy and the rest of his friends – who will be extras – and receives a lot of thumbs up in response.</p><p>The day of, Gavin manages to cajole Jack into sneaking out of the lecture with him five minutes before it ends<strong> out of the front row, too </strong>– he’d insisted on staying even when Gavin had continually pouted at him during the break that <em>they could leave earlier, it’s not compulsory, it’ll be online later</em> – and soon enough they’re giggling their way to the theatre department to pick up costumes and props. Lindsay, whose already there, helps them carry everything to Jack’s car, then they head over to the uni gym to meet up with Jeremy. For some reason, Lindsay insists on getting Jeremy by herself, leaving Gavin and Jack alone to wait outside. <strong>The intention was to have Lindsay be wing-woman and leave them alone to be together. Though it’s not mentioned at any point in the fic, my head-canon is that Lindsay saw something between them during the script readthrough, hence wing-woman.</strong></p><p>While Lindsay’s gone, Jack laughs over how this is the first time he’s ever left a lecture early, and Gavin teases him for being such a goody two-shoes. <strong>Because Jack’s such a cinnamon roll. </strong>Jack grins, and the air feels light as they talk about other things.</p><p>At some point, Lindsay bounds over with Jeremy in tow. Jack tells everyone to wait while he goes and picks up all the equipment they’ll be renting, and none of them are having it. Lindsay practically shoves Jack out of the way to march over there herself, and Jeremy uses the distraction to slip by Jack as well.</p><p>Gavin grabs his arm and asks him how he thinks he’ll carry multiple lighting stands, reflectors, microphones, microphone stands <em>and </em>their camera in only two hands, and huffs when Jack says something about parking closer to the uni rental place – in other words in the busiest parking on campus which never has parking – and making multiple trips for everything since he couldn’t find a trolley to carry everything at once.</p><p>They run into Lindsay and Jeremy halfway there; Jeremy’s carrying the microphone stand and clamps, while Lindsay’s carrying the lighting stands. They seem to be having a competition going for how many arm curls they can do while holding the equipment. Gavin laughs at Jack’s incredulousness, saying that they’ve both carried this stuff for Gavin before so nothing would be damaged, even as Jack protests over how <em>this is a two-person project, Gavin, we can’t get anyone to help, can we? </em>But he’s grinning wide as he says it, so it’s clear he’s not really upset about it. <strong>He’s taking things literally, but he’s being more light-hearted about it instead of Completely Set In Stone.</strong></p><p>Jack ends up grabbing the tripod before Jeremy can get to it, <strong>because Jack’s stubborn, too, and always wants to help out </strong>and Gavin rolls his eyes but lets him load it into the back of the car along with the rest of their equipment.</p><p>And suddenly, they’re saying goodbye to Lindsay and Jeremy – for now – and driving over to Lindsay’s bakery where they’ll be filming that night.</p><p>They’re silent on the way over, both wrapped up in thought. Suddenly Gavin is hit with jitters. Are they going to get all the shots they need? What if the equipment doesn’t work when they get on set? What if they run out of time? Do they have everything – they have everything, Jack triple-checked that they have everything, including the script, shot list, storyboard, paperwork, extra SD cards for the camera, plenty of snacks as crafty, and Gavin’s suddenly incredibly grateful for how meticulous Jack is. What if their ‘game plan’, as Jack has put it – for shots, lighting and sound – falls apart? <strong>Cheers to several solo filmmaker vlogs on YouTube for the info about pre-filming jitters.</strong></p><p>The usual jitters before a shoot, heightened with the memory of so many terrible student film sets that Gavin has endured in the past, and, oddly enough, the feeling of pressure. <strong>Cheers again to ‘every student film set’ for context of just how terrible student film sets could be. </strong>Like Gavin has to do well, has to put his best foot forward, because Jack has put so much into this, and Gavin doesn’t want to let either of them down.</p><p>When they get there, Lindsay and Jeremy show up soon after. Lindsay runs in to unlock the shop and emerges with cupcakes she made while working that afternoon, which she bribes Jack with so he won’t unload the car. Jack looks over at Gavin, who grins at him encouragingly, and Jack turns back and takes the cupcake. True to his word, he lets Gavin, Lindsay and Jeremy unload all their equipment from the car into the kitchens, where they’ll be filming.</p><p>And soon enough, Gavin is rushing around, setting up lights as Jack walks the space and sets up the camera. Jack points out a few unique angles that they could shoot from that Gavin hadn’t noticed before, and they agree to shoot those angles for additional coverage once they’ve gotten master shots and full coverage as per their storyboard and shot list. Gavin’s weak hands can’t handle the microphone clamps, but Jack smiles at him as his strong hands attach them easily, all between setting up the flash-drive prop and dressing the set. Gavin wires up the shotgun mics, sets up the audio recorder and then he’s doing a final sweep of the room.</p><p>
  <strong>In this chapter, where they actually film the footage, I wasn’t sure how much detail I should put in. I was worried it wouldn’t be enough: this is principal photography, the time where the cinematographer does most of their work, but most of the filmmaking info I’d found online was for pre-production instead, and other fics I’d read where people were on film sets just jumped to what happened <em>after </em>they’d finished on set and didn’t include details of what actually happened on it (or it was for a photoshoot instead of a filmset, which didn’t really apply either). I was also worried there would be too many details: the pace of the story had picked up and I didn’t want to drag the story out too long, or overwhelm readers with too much detail.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>What I did know was: audio, lights and camera, and that there was no need to put specific specs or frame rates. And it ended up working nicely.</strong>
</p><p>To his surprise, there aren’t any odd reflections across counter surfaces like there usually are, and Jack says that he’d asked Lindsay to turn off the lights in the main seating area nearby because they were creating unwanted reflections off of the shiny metal counters. <strong>This was based on an online article I read about setting up lights on a film set, where they specifically mention turning off lights in other rooms to remove unwanted reflections off of tables. It’s such a little yet impactful detail that – you guessed it, I turned to our resident attentive-to-detail guy, Jack. </strong>He smiles when Gavin’s eyes widen in shock because like, holy shit, Jack’s attention to detail is just – unparalleled.</p><p>They call Jeremy and Lindsay over to level out their audio, who have emerged from the bathrooms in their costumes, and that’s when Jack calls Gavin over for something. When he asks, Jack says that there’s a noticeable hum in the background. Surprising, since all Gavin remembers about sound during his scout is that there was a bit of reverb. But once he listens to the test audio, it’s very noticeable, so if they can they’ll need to fix it immediately.</p><p>It turns out that the six fridges in the kitchens are responsible for the humming, and also for the ‘reverb’ that Gavin had heard during his scout weeks ago. After some discussion, the four of them mutually decide that it’s okay to move the few things in the fridges into the coolers at the back and then turn the fridges off. <strong>Normally you’d have to ask the owner for permission to unplug stuff, hence the discussion, but I figured that since it was after-hours that they might not be okay with asking the manager right now.</strong></p><p>After that, it’s time to shoot the film.</p><p>They fly through it. Lindsay has lots of theatre experience and Jeremy’s great at improv, so even if they hadn’t rehearsed they would’ve done really well with the script – had, in the past, when Gavin had been forced to write the script at the last minute for other projects because the supposed ‘screenwriter’ didn’t write anything – but they’re nailing their lines, getting everything in three or four takes. <strong>From my research, it can take eight or more takes to get a scene right. In a day-in-the-life of a film student I read online, it’s perfectly normal for them to film ten takes, all unsatisfactory, before giving up and going with the first one. It’s a brutal world out there. </strong>They’re filming a confrontation between the spy and the traitor and it’s exciting stuff. Their movements are so fluid, and Gavin is swept up in it as he and Jack watch everything in the viewscreen of the camera. It feels a bit like they’re making magic, and for the first time in a long time, Gavin remembers why he came to film school in the first place <strong>hinting towards Gavin having grown disillusioned with filmmaking</strong>.</p><p>Jack guides them through the scene <strong>he’s wordlessly falling into the director role</strong>, starting with master shots then shooting from wide to close-ups, followed by inserts for the edit <strong>it took me a while to figure out that b-roll, cutaways and inserts all meant the same thing, with a different term used whether you’re shooting a documentary or a narrative film. So confusing.</strong>, and Gavin’s more than happy to follow through with camera and lighting setups. Jack’s instructions are clear, concise and focused, with diligent reference to the storyboard and shot list. <strong>Because Jack’s an I’m-always-prepared kind of guy, and I wanted that to be clear while on set. Some people are able to wing it, and that’s great, but on most film sets, each shot is meticulously planned via shot list and/or storyboard (especially on low-budget feature films), and more importantly I wanted Jack and Gavin’s in-depth preparation in pre-production to pay off.</strong></p><p>Jack is so focused, and amidst the chaos of adjusting all their equipment, Gavin can’t help but watch him sometimes. At the intent, focused look gets as he’s blocking a scene, talking things over with Jeremy and Lindsay. How they pitch in with contributions of their own, and how Jack looks surprised but listens to their suggestions.</p><p>They end up filming a couple of different versions of the confrontation. Again, Lindsay and Jeremy nail their takes, and luckily the microphone clamps don’t get into the shot – though they got close, Jack points out at one point and with that, the first scene here is done.</p><p>The second scene they’re filming here is also in the kitchen, but they’re using it as a fake for where the spy gets their orders, by using a couple of the counters up against the wall as ‘desks’ and facing the camera to the wall, away from all the ovens, to try and make it look like they’re not in a kitchen.</p><p>But that’s the issue. With the shiny metal countertops and bright LED ceiling lights, it’s still fairly obvious that they’re in a kitchen. It’s something Gavin hadn’t expected – he’d come up with the filming-in-kitchen idea after scouting this place, and he hadn’t had time to scout it again – so he and Jack try a bunch of things to make it not look like a kitchen.</p><p>First, they grab some tablecloths from the back – Lindsay’s suggestion – and chuck it over the counter. But all of them are circular instead of rectangular like the counters, are way too small, and keep slipping off the smooth counters, so that won’t work.</p><p>“Maybe we could turn off all the lights and re-light the scene?” Gavin suggests.</p><p>Jack bites his lip. “We have those light fixtures from uni, but they shine really harsh light that would reflect off of the metal counters as well, so I don’t think we can do that…”</p><p>Gavin considers it. “I think you’re right. All those light fixtures are fluorescent, yeah? So they’d glare off of the counters. But that doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to gain from trying it out anyway. Could learn something from it, give us extra inspiration.”</p><p>Jack’s staring at counter intently like it’ll be able to tell them something, but eventually he nods and says, “Okay. It’s worth a try.”</p><p>They have two light fixtures, which they try putting in various places. First with them just behind the camera, but the light is too harsh. Then they try putting them on the other side of the room, which removes the reflections off the counters but unfortunately doesn’t disguise the fact that they’re in the same kitchen. Then they try putting them on either side of the counter but just off-camera, which –</p><p>Huh.</p><p>Gavin had suggested that they try the lights there on a complete whim, just to cover all bases. There’s something a little less harsh about where they’ve placed the lights, so he gets Lindsay, whose playing the spy getting orders, to face the camera and lean back against the counter, just to see what it looks like.</p><p>Turns out that each light perfectly hits each side of Lindsay’s face, resulting a shadow forming at the peak of her nose. He asks her to say some lines and – yep, just like he thought.</p><p>The mix of light and shadows mean that Gavin can just see her lips move. Which would be great, but the lights still illuminate the rest of the kitchen. If only they could flip it, so that everything was dark except for her nose. That way, her lips would be clearer on camera…</p><p>Gavin asks her whether there are any other sources of light available. She looks surprised, but she says that they have some lanterns and candles that they use for people who want romantic lunches, and once she’s brought them out, Gavin does some testing with it.</p><p>He’s halfway through setting up the candles when he realizes that he hasn’t gotten Jack’s input at all, and he glances over at him, horrified at how Jack’s going to react.</p><p>Normally Gavin’s ‘teammates’ have ten million criticisms about lighting, especially his. And running off to do his own thing without a teammate’s input is not just bad teamwork, it’s unfair to whatever they might suggest.</p><p>He’s fully expecting Jack to start yelling at him, and he suddenly wonders why he hasn’t already.</p><p>But Jack isn’t…his face is oddly neutral, and for the first time since he met him, Gavin can’t read what he’s thinking. He’s not angry, or tense, but he’s not necessarily happy, either. It’s more like he’s observing, as though Gavin’s a lecturer demonstrating something to a class.</p><p>They stare at each other for a long, long moment. Jack’s expression doesn’t change. Gavin’s hand is frozen, hovering over the candles, not daring to move.</p><p>Then Jack blinks rapidly, as though suddenly snapping out of a daze. “You can keep going,” he says hastily. “I just – I was. Interested.”</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted to emulate Jack getting completely lost in watching Gavin work. Everything he does is pure instinct (one thing leads to another to another), but it’s not like it’s easy for him either. It’s surprising, honestly; Jack’s always assumed that anyone working off pure instinct conjured up their solutions with magic. But it’s not like that at all. Gavin’s actively puzzling things out, with an approach based on instinct and associations.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I think up until this point, Jack has been envious of those who are instinct-based, on the assumption that they had an easier time at everything (especially compared to Jack, who spends far too long overthinking everything). This is the point where Jack realizes that instinct-based people work just as hard as the overthinkers; it’s just that it manifests in a way that looks effortless (like flying by the seat of your pants and having everything work out anyway).</strong>
</p><p>Gavin waits for a moment, for the inevitable other shoe to drop, but it doesn’t. Jack starts giving him that neutral look from before, but there’s more curiosity in it now. There’s something <em>stable </em>about it too, something steady to it, and that’s what ultimately buoys him into going back to setting up the candles.</p><p>Once he’s done, he lights the candles and Jack turns off all the kitchen lights. Lindsay stands in front of the counter again and Gavin does a test shot.</p><p>Everything is dark except for her nose and lips. Once Gavin switches to a wider lens, her lip movements can be seen on camera.</p><p>Gavin thinks it over out-loud, hoping to get Jack’s input, saying that it’s not perfect, but they can make it work; sure, facial expressions can’t be seen at all, but it’s not like facial detail is necessary to convey the point of the scene. That as long as lip movement can be detected it’ll be clear that they didn’t just film a black screen and nothing else.</p><p>
  <strong>This part was loosely inspired by Matti Haapoja’s YouTube video, ‘5 Tips for Filming at Night’. I adapted one of his tips, using harsh lights (e.g. streetlamps) to silhouetted subjects, to a ‘dark’ location, an indoor room with all the lights off.</strong>
</p><p>Jack watches the test footage back several times, muttering Gavin’s explanation to himself each time. Gavin explains himself further, specifically the process by which he came up with this and why their light fixtures from uni wouldn’t work in this situation, and after another re-watch of the test footage, Jack nods.</p><p>It’s getting late, so Gavin, Jack, Lindsay and Jeremy decide to take a break for crafty, which is also their dinner.</p><p>Jack moves to stand away from them but Gavin drags him over, starting to talk about Trials and Assassin’s Creed, the latter of which they’d talked about when they’d had lunch at Rudy’s, and soon the four of them are talking about that, particularly the story mode in Assassin’s Creed Odyssey. Lindsay also gets Jack smiling with a bunch of jokes, and they bond over baking – Jack makes quite the fine cinnamon roll as it turns out – and Jeremy and Jack bond over Doom.</p><p>
  <strong>You might have noticed that in this story, Jack tends to shy away from conversations with anyone other than Gavin. It’s a combination of a couple of things: 1) Jack’s better at one-on-one conversation, which comes up later in the story; and 2) In videos, he stuck closest to Geoff for a very, very long time, and I wanted that to translate to the first person he connects with in this universe: Gavin. Basically, he sticks closely to those that he’s, well, close to, and doesn’t tend to reach out to others. That, to me, was a plausible reason – other than not having mutual interests with his peers – that he would have found connecting with others more difficult in the story. And in something that will be brought up later, Jack feels a bit awkward just because these are Gavin’s friends, not his, and, well, <em>new people. </em></strong>
</p><p>After dinner, it’s very quick to film the scene since they’ve already set up everything, including the candles. And when they watch the footage back, Jack looks up at Gavin with something like appreciation. <strong>Because this is yet another example of Gavin being able to look past the minute details (their faces aren’t lit up), see the bigger picture (what is the point of the scene?) and translate that into a solution (the point of the scene doesn’t involve tons of facial expressions, so let’s silhouette the subjects against the harsh lights).</strong></p><p>It’s 1am by the time they’re done. But that’s okay, since the sound’s all good, the lighting’s all good, and they have several takes for the edit. Gavin hasn’t had all three of those things from a shoot in – he can’t remember anymore. <strong>Film shoots always go quite long, especially overnight shoots. I had them finish up fairly late because they had to re-light, rearrange the camera, etc., from scratch, plus film the first confrontation scene.</strong></p><p>They’ll be doing an overnight shoot tomorrow – a couple of scenes at Rudy’s, and if they have time then they’ll shoot at golden hour at the park – so they’ll need all the sleep they can get. If it doesn’t work out – the schedule is very tight – they’ll just have to come back to the park on a different day, which is totally fine; Jack had planned the schedule accordingly, and that alone exceeds expectations of the typical filming schedule. <strong>I wasn’t sure if the schedule was unrealistically tight, and I didn’t want part of their conflict at Rudy’s to be based on something unrealistic, but I steeled myself and kept it in. </strong></p><p>Gavin sends Jeremy and Lindsay home – despite their insistence to stay and help pack up – and Jack tries to drive Gavin home first then come back and pack up everything on his own, which he won’t have at all. <strong>Jack’s thinking is that he wants Gavin to get all the sleep he can, especially because he’s worked so hard. He cares so much about other people, but rarely about himself, something that Gavin easily puts a curb-stop to. </strong>Eventually, Jack relents, though he does have to help Gavin with some of the cables when he accidentally gets tangled up in them.</p><p>In Jack’s car, they watch back the dailies, and they’re as good as Gavin expected them to be. It’s honestly a relief, that everything they set out to capture that night is in the can. Jack drops Gavin off at his place, telling him that he’ll empty all the files from the camera’s SD card onto his computer <strong>cheers to ‘every student film set’ for the tip, and I figured it’d be even more important since they’re borrowing the camera from uni </strong>and sync the takes they’d chosen with the sound. <strong>This extra work was also my way of showing how after ‘it’s a wrap’ for the day, it’s not really a wrap – at least not for the cinematographer.</strong> Gavin nods, reminding him to get a good night – well, morning – sleep and all that. And as Gavin goes to bed, he can’t help but think that this went way, way too well.</p><hr/><p>Rudy’s is a whole different ball game.</p><p>When they get there, they’re met with plates of barbeque on one of the long tables and a coffee machine <strong>coffee is Essential for any film shoot, though I didn’t get the chance to incorporate Gavin’s coffee ‘preference’ until a different scene</strong>, courtesy of the deal Jack had made with Rudy’s. The restaurant has finished business for the night and the kitchen staff are cleaning up, but they’ll be gone by the time everyone’s finished dinner and they start filming.</p><p>
  <strong>Oftentimes, filming after-hours is the only option, so as to not interrupt normal business operations. I’d originally intended for everyone to turn up during the last hour of business so that they could have dinner beforehand, setup and start filming the moment the place closed, before realizing it would interfere with said operations, having eleven people take up one of the long dining tables in there.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin and Jack are the first ones there, so they start unpacking the car, but soon enough Lindsay and Jeremy – along with Geoff, Michael, Trevor, Matt, Alfredo and Fiona, who are the extras – turn up and, despite Jack’s protests that <em>yes, we’re allowed to move the furniture around, but we can do it ourselves</em>, they help them unload the car, move furniture around and dress the set, because somehow they’d gotten the storyboards even though nobody had been sent them except for Lindsay and Jeremy, both of whom give sly grins and refuse to answer who’d sent them to everyone else.</p><p>Five minutes later, they’re done, and <em>that wasn’t so hard, was it Jack? </em>Gavin teases him lightly, and Jack huffs but smiles at it and then everyone’s heading over to the food.</p><p>Gavin tries to get Jack to come over and have dinner with everyone else so that he can meet them properly, but Jack wants to go over camera and lighting setups again with just the two of them, so they do. <strong>Jack focusing on work rather than socializing was me trying to subtly hint towards why Jack has had difficulties connecting with others. There’s nothing wrong with it; it’s just that it’s different, and can appear off-putting at first. </strong>They’d already pre-blocked the scene, pre-setup shots, done camera tests and recorded the rehearsal, so it’s quick work. The film’s basically already made, so all they have to do is get in there and actually shoot it. <strong>Cheers to Film Courage’s YouTube video featuring Adam Bradley called,  ’14 Lessons from making a $3500 feature film’, for this tip, where they did extensive pre-production, like literally every shot end-to-end was storyboarded and shot listed, and 99% of the shots they got were only what was essential to telling the story.</strong></p><p>Everyone finishes dinner, and it’s time to get to work.</p><p>They’re indoors, so they can control a lot of things, but the fluorescent lighting is one thing they can’t. The kitchen at Lindsay’s work had flat-paneled LED lights, so they hadn’t needed to white-balance there, but like all fluorescent lights the ones in Rudy’s give off strangely tinted light. They’d figured out during test shoots that their camera is high-end enough that they can adjust white balance from both blue to orange and green to magenta <strong>cheers to an online article from PremiumBeat for the white balance and fluorescent lights info</strong>, so Gavin adjusts the white balance accordingly, finishes setting up lights, then goes to set up the sound.</p><p>Same procedure as last time, but he mounts the mics closer to the actors because the fluorescent lights hum too. Sound blankets would have been nice, Jack comments lightly as he sets up the camera, but they’d both agreed beforehand that this was one thing that they’d have to compromise on since it was just the two of them and they already had to handle so much equipment. <strong>I did consider having them bring sound blankets anyway, because sound is important to both of them, but despite the assignment being about shooting a film with the <em>workload </em>of five people, I don’t think they wanted to go too overboard with it, which sound blankets would have been. </strong>Even without sound blankets, the audio levels are fine, and they’re ready to go.</p><p>At first, it’s going great. Jack looks at the storyboard, tells Gavin what shot they need, then Gavin lights the shots, they get the actors in, they test the audio, they film the shot, and Jack draws a red circle around it and calls out the next shot. It’s important that they’re efficient; they’re shooting a key scene involving a lot of wides where the spy watches the traitor interact with the waiters, then a dialogue-heavy scene where the spy questions the traitor about their motives for betraying their agency.</p><p>
  <strong>The next few paragraphs are meant to be an escalation of drama. The build-up to a very literal realization of Gavin’s worst fears about working with others.</strong>
</p><p>But at some point, it feels like they’re moving through shots too quickly. <strong>Dun dun duuuuun. </strong>Sometimes Jack will bite his lip as he watches the scenes back, like he wants to say something <strong>just like how he’d hesitated during their first meeting, before admitting that he was concerned that they’d need to film in fancy locations they didn’t have access to</strong>, but then shakes his head and calls out the next setup instead. When Gavin comes over and tries to help, Jack shoos him away <strong>whereas in their first meeting, Gavin’s gentle words had encouraged him to open up about his doubts</strong>, and it’s demoralizing to see him so stiff-backed and wary. He tries not to take it personally, but it’s hard not to when he gets even more closed off.</p><p>Just small things. Like how his eyes are fastidiously fixed on the camera as it’s rolling, something a little too hyper-vigilant in it. How his lips are downturned when talking with the actors, no hint of the warmth that had been there the other night. How it seems like he’s not really there, is just rush-rush-go-go no-time-to-even-think-of-trying-new-things. How there’s something too frantic in how he’s adjusting the camera. <strong>I wanted to try and emulate <em>tunnel vision </em>while on set, which is fairly difficult without many external references; as useful as those solo filmmaker vlogs on YouTube were, a lot of them skipped over the actual on-set process because things were frantic. Then I realized that franticness <em>was </em>the process, and that’s what I attempted to emulate.</strong></p><p>And suddenly, Gavin’s hit by all the fears he’d had about Jack in the first place. Uptight, pushy buzzkill who refuses help at all costs <strong>because this is the first time there’s anything close to conflict between them, and as harsh as Gavin’s doubts may have sounded, I wanted all of them to be true – to an extent</strong>, but he shoves them away because he can’t do that, he can’t lump Jack in with his past teammates like that <strong>because Jack’s different to every other person Gavin’s ever worked with, mature aged or no, and he is so much more than the worst parts of past teammates </strong>–</p><p>– and then Lindsay misses a line for the fourth time and Jack’s abruptly calling cut for the third.</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted people to read that line and gasp, because abruptly calling, “CUT!” is exactly what it sounds like: rude, inconsiderate and doesn’t allow actors to breathe and give their best performances. I wanted something harsh enough to warrant Gavin being like, ‘Alright, I have to step in before things spiral out of control.’ Something that would break Gavin from his reverie of, ‘Jack is different than everyone else.’ Because he <em>is </em>different, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make mistakes. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted this to be the climax of the story (yes, halfway in, I realise that’s a bit early) and I wanted things to get frantic (hence the very tight filming schedule for this night, which they eventually don’t end up following) and I wanted to show that Jack’s not a monolith of perfection, yet so far there’s been <em>nothing </em>Jack has done that is argument-inducing.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This is my way of addressing that.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin runs up to Jack and taps him on the shoulder. He jumps but turns to Gavin immediately.</p><p>“Jack, can I talk to you? Alone?” Gavin whispers in his ear.</p><p>Jack freezes. <strong>Gavin had whispered it, but he might as well have been shouting it from across the room, for how vividly he hears it. </strong>Gavin tries to communicate with his eyes how serious this is, how <em>necessary </em>this is. Jack’s shoulders are rigid, but he must have seen something in Gavin’s expression, because he sags and nods, telling the actors to take a break before following Gavin to the backroom.</p><p>Once they’re alone, Gavin turns to him. “What’s up with you?”</p><p>“There’s nothing up with me. What did you want to talk about?” Jack’s face is carefully blank, but it’s clear from his eyes that he <em>knows </em>that something is up, he just doesn’t want to say it. <strong>In Jack’s eyes, it’s not Professional of him to be falling apart like this. In his mind, he just needs to <em>go-go-go</em>, like those my-way-or-the-highway-people (callback to Gavin’s fears), to just not think long enough so that they can get what they need.</strong></p><p>“About you, you mug. <strong>Gavin is using the nickname for Jack that he uses for Geoff, a subtle way of slipping in that Gavin considers Jack a close friend. </strong>You’re rushing through setups. And I get it, we have to be efficient and quick and stuff, can’t just sit around and do nothing for a bunch of hours or whatever <strong>*cough* everything the video ‘every student film set’ spoofed about terrible student film sets *cough*</strong>. But you’re frowning at the playbacks and interrupting takes the moment someone messes up a line.”</p><p>“The playbacks are fine, I’m just reading too much into things <strong>like I always do. </strong>And – sorry, I’ll stop interrupting takes. I didn’t realise I was doing that.” <strong>Even though that part was ultimately the catalyst for Gavin taking him aside, I felt like the moment he was made aware of it he’d fix it, and it made sense for him to have forgotten about it amidst Tunnel Vision.</strong></p><p>“Thanks. But you’re not reading too much into things, you know you’re not,” Gavin says. “Even though you’re not letting me see the clips, we <em>both</em> know you’re not.”</p><p>
  <strong>Here’s Gavin’s confidence. Believing in Jack even when Jack doesn’t believe in himself; <em>trusting </em>his instincts even when Jack doesn’t trust them himself. Gavin doesn’t think Jack is reading too much into things like everyone else in his life (including Jack himself) thinks he does. They’ve been through this before, this careful pulling apart of Jack’s overanalytical mind, of all his doubts. This is why that first meeting in Jack’s dining room was so, so important, and why it took so fucking long for me to write.</strong>
</p><p>Jack bites his lip, and Gavin gestures towards it, because that’s the <em>exact same bite lip from before</em>, and seeing this, Jack sighs. <strong>Because Gavin has non-verbally called him out instinctively, as easily as he adjusts lights for changing conditions, because they’ve worked together long enough for Gavin to know him like it’s breathing.</strong></p><p>“It’s fine, I’ll just fix it in post,” Jack waves a hand at it, and Gavin’s eyes bulge.</p><p>“ ‘I’ll just fix it in post’? Really, Jack? <em>Really?</em>” Gavin echoes disbelievingly, because they both know that it’s the most over-used ‘solution’ in the filmmaker’s book, and Jack knows it too, if the exasperated look he gives him is any indication.</p><p>
  <strong>“I’ll just fix it in post,” is the most commonly said phrase on a film set (especially indie and student film sets). It’s the easy answer when dealing with time limitations, missing props, or when you haven’t had the time to set the scene properly. We have all sorts of fancy video editing programs, after all, and the extra 15-30 mins it would take to go buy that prop you forgot seems better used for 3-6 extra takes of a scene, or to wrap up on set on time so you don’t jeopardise the location for you or future filmmakers.</strong>
</p><p>“You know what I mean.” <strong>Especially because Jack will be handling all post-production, so to him it’s not extra work.</strong></p><p>“No, I don’t, actually,” Gavin says. “Look, the way I see it, is: why rush it? You’ve noticed problems in the footage, <em>in camera</em>. If we can’t fix it in-camera, then of course that’s fine, we’ll handle it in post. But correct me if I’m wrong here, but we’ve been moving through setups so quickly that we haven’t even had the chance to consider whether we can fix it in-camera in the first place.”</p><p>
  <strong>Why fix in-camera, not post? </strong>
  <strong>I’ll let the Black Door Media article, ‘Why “I’ll Fix It In Post” is a terrible idea’ explain things:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>For example, let’s say you’re missing a tea cup you were planning to place on a table. Sounds easy enough: photoshop a tea-cup, load it in the video, then add tracking for any camera movement so it stays locked to a spot on the table. But what about colouring? If it’s on a table-cloth it’s picking up that reflection of light. If the table-cloth is green, you have to consider the green shades in the shadows of light on the bottom of the tea cup. What about camera movement? Depending on how much the camera moves (e.g. forwards/backwards) you’ll be seeing the cup from a different angle and that still photo won’t account for the change in perspective. What about depth of field and focus? And even after all that, it still doesn’t look natural and your eyes will be naturally drawn to it.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>What started off as a ‘5 minute job’ has quickly turned into several hours in post-production. A few times saying, “I’ll just fix it in post” and you’ve got a few extra days – or <em>weeks, </em>of work. Or worse, post-production <em>becomes </em>the principal photography.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>An extra 15-30 mins on set, or an extra few hours in post. You can see which option Gavin would prefer. But –</strong>
</p><p>“Because we don’t have time!” Jack snaps. <strong>That’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? It’s always about time.</strong> “We need to get this <em>done</em>, we need to film at the park, we need to get there before the joggers turn up, we can’t intrude on the actors’ time either, we need – ” he chokes out something like a scoff, and then he falls silent, eyes downcast.</p><p>
  <strong>On paper, the schedule seems decent: film at Rudy’s during the night then have them move to the park in time for golden hour. That way, people’s sleep schedules are only messed up for one night. But Jack knows that moving locations takes at least an hour, not to mention setting up. </strong>
</p><p>“Jack,” Gavin breathes out. “<em>Jack</em>. We don’t have to film the park scenes tonight, and the owners are letting us film here all night. Even if we had to film at the park tonight or pack up early, there are other ways to pick up the pace rather than not giving yourself – not giving <em>us </em>– the time or chance to fix problems in-camera first or talk it out.”</p><p>
  <strong>That was important to me, because even though they’re allowed to film at Rudy’s all night, this is stuff that really happens. Loud trucks roll by, birds fly overhead, and something’s got to give.</strong>
</p><p>“Like what?” Jack says it with steel, part-question, part-challenge, part to see whether Gavin is just giving him empty platitudes.</p><p>“Like, we can condense some of the shots. Maybe we don’t need the masters; we could just use OTS shots, and then adjust them so we don’t need to do close-ups either, like maybe moving the actors so they’re more in the frame of each other’s OTS shots. We’ve already got close-ups from other scenes, and even if we hadn’t we could put them as top priority to film at in the park scene later.”</p><p>
  <strong>I was fortunate enough to find a video that addressed this by saying that they could combine shots, with an example for a two-person dialogue, so that was the solution I got Gavin to propose. This way, sufficient coverage is only one shot for each character, as opposed to a master shot with both characters, OTS (over-the-shoulder) shots for each character and close-ups for each character – each of which requires separate camera and lighting setups. From five to two setups: I know which one I’d choose with limited time.</strong>
</p><p>“And if we couldn’t film anything other than the top priority shots?” Jack says, something steely and firm to it.</p><p>
  <strong>Jack saying it like this was intended to show that Jack is coming into himself more, inspired by Gavin’s approach and how he listens to him. Jack’s learning to become more confident with asking questions, which at the beginning he was <em>not </em>comfortable with unless given a lot of time. Which is fine, but with Gavin, at least, he feels comfortable with asking questions, no matter how pedantic or ridiculous they seem, because he knows that, at the end of the day, they’ll always talk things out.</strong>
</p><p>“Then we’d talk about it at the time and condense things as best we can to make sure we get all the shots in the brief, even if it’s just one take.”</p><p>Jack meets his eyes, and Gavin tries to communicate supportiveness and assuredness. He hopes he does okay. <strong>Aw Gavin, Jack thinks you’ve done more than okay =).</strong></p><p>“What I’m trying to say is, if we can fix it in-camera, why don’t we fix it in-camera, rather than rush it and hope things come together in post?” Gavin says.</p><p>Jack hesitates, and Gavin nods at him to continue. “The actors; they’re your friends, not mine, and I don’t want to intrude on their time – it’s so late already.”</p><p>“They chose to be here, and we gave them ample notice,” Gavin says. <strong>Because it’s important to note that ample notice is required for overnight shoots; you can’t just drop it out of the blue on cast and crew and expect them to not turn up tired and grumpy. And it was established during their first meeting that thinking of the actors is important to both of them (Jack: concerned about heavy costumes on actor’s heads, Gavin: gaining respect for Jack for that). </strong>“They set the time aside to do this. If we need them for longer than scheduled then yes, they more than have the right to say no. <strong>Cue begging actors to stay longer than planned because <em>we need to get this shot. </em></strong>We’d have to work around it, but we could find ways to do it, and we’d talk about it first.</p><p>“Besides, it’s not like it’s helping, rushing through things, is it? And for what? Stuff that none of us are happy with.”</p><p>
  <strong>The quote, ‘And for what?’ is from the video, ‘5 reason my first movie failed,’ the follow-up video to, ‘i made a movie. it stunk.’ Both videos addressed the rabbit hole and tunnel vision inherent in low-budget feature filmmaking – and for what? That line actually stopped me in my tracks, and I figured that it might stop Jack in his tracks too.</strong>
</p><p>“Oh,” Jack breathes, and finally he relaxes. He looks sheepish, now, and he runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “That makes sense. Thank you, Gavin, for setting my head straight. I got tunnel vision and just – jumped through things.”</p><p>
  <strong>Jack has figured out, based on previous experience with Gavin and him saying that he’s worked with a lot of bad people in the past, how difficult it is for Gavin to bring things up like this. And he’s so, so grateful that Gavin’s called him out on it – for setting his head straight. Not many people are brave enough to do that with anyone, let alone someone so deep in tunnel vision, let alone to do it with tact (taking him aside).</strong>
</p><p>They talk things out. <strong>Just like they did in their first meeting in Jack’s apartment. </strong>Gavin reminds him that they do have time to get things right – as much as they can in-camera, at least – and while they obviously don’t have infinite time, there’s no sense in rushing it. That they need to make sure they get sufficient coverage first. <strong>These sorts of reminders are important for Jack: reinforcement of the bigger picture here, and a reminder that Gavin is here for him.</strong></p><p>Jack admits that he typically gets preoccupied with fine tuning details like the placement of specific props, and it’s cost him in post-production for other projects. <strong>When I found out that this is something that can happen on set, it instantly reminded me of Jack, hence its inclusion. Fine-tuning too much can lead to not shooting enough takes for other scenes, hence insufficient coverage, hence not many options when editing the scene. </strong>In an act to counteract that, he’d done the opposite – rushing through everything – instead. Gavin nods, saying that he’ll keep an eye on him for that and tells him that there’s nothing wrong with wanting a nice finished film or speeding through making it, but they have to figure out what’s important and what’s not, and to not sacrifice what’s important just for time’s sake and nothing else. <strong>Gavin once again with the bigger picture stuff. When I started writing this fic, I never dreamed that <em>Gavin </em>would be the one keeping their heads straight, but here they are.</strong> Jack agrees with him, and he says that when they get back to work, they’ll do it all together. <strong>Teaaamwork makes the dreeeam work.</strong></p><p>After that, they both agree to take a breather. They both need a break. <strong>No shit. A lot was addressed here between the characters, and Jack in particular has always needed more time to do things, to process things. It’s not bad – just different.</strong></p><p>“I just need to be alone right now. Could you…would you mind explaining it to the others? I don’t – it’s not that I’m afraid of them, though I am,” Jack lets out a harried chuckle. “But they’re your friends, not mine, and I think it would go down better if you told them.”</p><p>“Of course,” Gavin nods.</p><p>He gets it. It’s intimidating being a director around so many strangers, even more so when they’re much closer to the one person you do know rather than yourself. There have been too many times on set where everyone has hated the director because they’ve turned into a total jerk the moment they have to tell people what to do. But Jack has been so great – despite the stress of it all – and Gavin’s more than happy to help.</p><p>“Thanks,” Jack says. “And I’m sorry I got overzealous about everything.”</p><p>“No, it’s good, you’re passionate,” Gavin says, giving him a smile. <strong>That was my admittedly shoddy attempt at incorporating Gavin saying that Jack’s good, he’s passionate, in RT Podcast #338 when Gus and crew roasted Jack for getting obsessively detailed about sports to the point that nobody cares, before the pilot of Sportsball back in 2015. </strong>“Just need to watch out for the tunnel vision, that’s all.”</p><p>He reaches over and squeezes his arm, then he leaves him alone.</p><p>
  <strong>And with that, the hardest part of writing the story (other than the first meeting in Jack’s dining room) was over. I remember being so happy and relieved once I’d finished this part, but also worried that I wasn’t able to communicate everything I wanted to. And how close yet far I had to go (hadn’t written any of the romance yet, after all).</strong>
</p><p>Back in the dining area, everyone else is waiting for him. Fiona reaches him first, asking him whether he needs her to whack Jack into next week <strong>Fiona’s always ready to kick ass, and her and Gavin have such a great dynamic that I figured I’d hint at it here</strong>, and Gavin assures her that while he appreciates the offer, it’s not needed in the slightest.</p><p>Halfway through, Lindsay turns up, and before Gavin can ask her, she’s already telling him that she’s okay. She says that she’d already seen that Jack was very stressed, and though she’d been put off by his sudden abruptness at first, she’d realized during the break that it wasn’t directed at her personally.</p><p>“It doesn’t help that we’re pretty much all strangers to him,” Lindsay says contemplatively. “I think when it was just me and Jeremy it was okay, but there’s, what, eight of us now? And he only really knows you. And he has to direct all of us.” At this point, she shrugs. “I think if I was in the same situation, I’d be terrified. You couldn’t have gotten any of his friends involved to make things a bit easier on him?”</p><p>Gavin grimaces, and shakes his head. He feels sad, suddenly, at how <em>he’s </em>the one Jack’s probably closest to, a stranger he just met a few weeks ago, only together because of a partner project. He wants the world for Jack – he deserves it – but he doesn’t know how to give it to him.</p><p>Lindsay’s gazing at him intently right now, as though she already knows everything he’s thinking, everything he hasn’t said, and she places a hand on his shoulder. It’s with a smile that she says, “You’re a piece of shit, but I’m glad he has you.”</p><p>
  <strong>This was my way of incorporating Lindsay’s empathy and understanding of social awkwardness. From Gavin’s grimace, she understands that Jack hasn’t connected with many people, that he’s quite isolated – an understanding compounded by how Jack kept shying away from her and Jeremy until Gavin brought him over. More importantly, she can see how at ease – however hidden – Jack is with Gavin, and she can tell that this wouldn’t have happened without a lot of effort on both of their parts; because she knows Gavin isn’t the best at communication, and it’s clear to her that Jack isn’t either. But it’s clear that they’ve made it work, <em>continue </em>to make it work, and it’s wonderful.</strong>
</p><p>Something about that makes Gavin feel good, but he won’t stop to think about that for too long.</p><p>After that, Gavin calls everyone over and explains it to them.</p><p>He explains that they had rushed through shooting clips due to limited time, meaning that some clips had technical issues with them, and that they would probably need to reshoot them to make sure they’re okay. That Jack tends to get preoccupied with little details but that he’ll keep him on track for that.</p><p>Everyone is supportive of this, and Jeremy – the sweet guy he is – says that he’ll keep an eye on Jack too. That he’s also familiar with getting so wrapped up in it that you become the project instead of just part of it. And he can do that, Lindsay says, but not if she gets to Jack first.</p><p>Gavin’s heart swells with pride at his friends, how they’re willing to unquestionably pitch in to help someone just on Gavin’s word and a couple of hours in that person’s company. He really does have the best friends in the world.</p><p>Jack comes back fifteen minutes later, and when he does, he gives Gavin a tentative smile before calling him over. Jack points out that some of the footage is a bit shaky even though the camera has been mounted on a tripod, and that other bits of footage don’t quite have the focus they want or the exposure is a bit off. It turns out that they’d filmed on a bit of unsteady ground, hence the shaky footage, and adjusting the reflectors and switching the lenses fix the exposure and the focus.</p><p>They take the time to condense the shots as Gavin suggested. Jack had suggested they do this as a test run so that if they need to do so while filming at the park they can do it quicker then. It would also help reduce clips they need to re-shoot at Rudy’s, and if they actually have more time then they can shoot more angles and experiment with it knowing that they have sufficient coverage. It’s quick work, and the break gives everyone time to breathe.</p><p>Things are much better once they start filming again.</p><p>With the revised plan, everything quickly falls into place. Gavin keeps an eye on him, and Jack relaxes more, and at different points Jeremy and Lindsay chat with Jack. Both of them must say something about it because at some point in each conversation, Jack smiles and glances back over at Gavin, though for what reason Gavin’s not entirely sure.<strong> In my head, Jack glances over, heart pounding, because he grew – <em>evolved </em>– when he and Gavin talked things out in the last scene, and he’s even more in love with Gavin than he already was.</strong></p><p>At one point, Gavin notices that Jack’s spending a minute too long adjusting the way someone is holding a glass, and gently tells him that he’s fine tuning things too much. Jack thanks him and he moves away from it. Gavin does this a couple more times – mostly when Jack is trying to maintain continuity between shots in terms of the wall art – but other than that, Jack accepts Gavin’s help like before. And the rest of the night rushes by in lights, wires and shots.</p><p>They’d decided to film at Rudy’s the entire night while talking things out in the backroom, and it’s definitely paid off. They’d taken their time but hadn’t stagnated, getting a bunch of different angles and plenty of coverage for the edit. Lindsay and Jeremy had been given the room to improvise, both of whom had given an equally wide range of performances that would work really well.</p><p>Most of Gavin’s friends had left early – they’d re-filmed the wides and inserts with them and then sent them home – but Michael and Geoff had stuck around to keep everyone company. It’s nice to chat with them between takes, but it’s mostly short conversations because Gavin’s busy adjusting lights for the next setup or checking up on sound.</p><p>At six in the morning, it’s a wrap for the night. Not bad at all, considering they came in at ten and started filming at eleven. <strong>It’s unstated, but they filmed a bit over a quarter of the film that night, so 5-7 minutes of the film in six hours. That’s still unrealistically amazing. In retrospect, I should have had them just get sufficient coverage by 6am, but whatever. </strong>Everyone helps pack up the gear into Jack’s car, and as they do so, Jack takes Gavin aside.</p><p>Jack thanks him, admitting that Gavin had been right and that he’s feeling much more at ease. Jack steps forward, as though going to hug him, but then stops himself, and the moment’s broken. <strong>Jack doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable =( </strong>Gavin lets him know he’s glad that he could help, that things turned out alright, and to sleep well over the next couple of days – as much as he can in the chaos of uni – before their final day of shooting on Friday morning. <strong>And what I love the most about Gavin in this scene was how supportive he was (or at least, I hope I communicated him being supportive).</strong></p><hr/><p>
  <strong>All sorts of things could go wrong shooting outdoors – from power supply issues to unwanted people getting into frame – but at this point the pace of the story was such that I wanted it to be a get-in-get-out situation. The main chaos of the story has finished – now it’s time for denouement.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>For the filmmaking process, at least.</strong>
</p><p>Filming in the park is a breeze. They arrive early enough that nobody is there, and they have plenty of time to set-up. They’d brought all their gear along with a generator, plenty of spare batteries and SD cards, and Jack had even picked up sunscreen and bug spray which, while unnecessary – the park being completely urban and not rural – was appreciated none-the-less, and Jack’s thoughtfulness boosts the good feeling on set by quite a bit.</p><p>Gavin tells Jack not to wait until the sun reaches its best peak during golden hour, and to just start filming. It’s a good idea; golden hour is shorter than expected due to the extra clouds in the sky. Jeremy and Lindsay nail their lines and the chase scene in only a couple of takes, and they end up getting everything they need right as golden hour ends. <strong>Golden hour is short, and chase scenes take longer to film than dialogue. Most golden hour scenes in movies take 2 days to film, with all the crafty, parking and port-a-potties that go with it. </strong>They still have to film exteriors of some places they’d found around the city, but principal photography with actors is done.</p><p>Afterwards, Gavin and Jack go back to Jack’s place and empty the files onto Jack’s computer – he makes copies to several hard drives, one of which he gives to Gavin – and then the two of them meet up with everyone else in the courtyard at uni to celebrate. Gavin finally gets the chance to introduce Jack to everyone properly over coffee and bagels, and as expected, Jack hits it off with everyone.</p><p>Jack and Geoff had already gotten along, Gavin knew, and Lindsay and Jeremy had met him a few times. Lindsay steers the conversation to video games, which Jack is more than happy to talk about. Soon enough there’s an argument about the driving controls in GTA and whether it’s better to play first-person shooters on PC or console; Alfredo and Fiona are firmly on the PC side, Michael, Matt and Geoff are firmly console, Jeremy and Trevor are in the middle and Lindsay is firmly on neither, she’d rather just play Mario Kart.</p><p>Gavin cracks a few jokes and is delighted when he manages to coax a few chuckles from Jack. It’s always at the oddest things; he’ll make a joke he put a lot of effort into and Jack won’t react, but then he’ll say some little thing that he puts no effort into at all that sends Jack into a spiral of giggles. <strong>Jack and Gavin tend to be like that in videos – they’ll miss a lot of each other’s jokes, then they’ll laugh at tiny things that the other hadn’t thought would be funny, so I wanted to incorporate that. </strong>His eyes are soft, shoulders relaxed as the tension he’s been carrying while filming wanes bit by bit. He looks tired, but a good kind of tired.</p><p>The feeling is mutual. There’s nothing more satisfying than calling it – at least, all the stuff with actors and audio in it – and hanging out with his friends afterwards, and it’s nice to see Jack fitting in so naturally, like he’s always been part of the group.</p><hr/><p>
  <strong>The denouement for the filmmaking process continues (and will wrap up in post-production), but up sprouts a new plot element: the rooomance.</strong>
</p><p>They’re filming a time-lapse of Austin, overlooking the I-35, when it comes up.</p><p>It’s the last of the exteriors and establishing shots they need to film. They’d already gone to the former nuclear power plant, lit up blue in the night, but none of the other buildings had worked out; unless they wanted to film guerilla-style, which both of them firmly didn’t.</p><p>So here they are, on the side of a highway, huddled together against the fall chill on the bonnet of Jack’s car overlooking the I-35. After having take-away coffee (Jack had grabbed three pods of milk and three sachets of sugar for Gavin which – was honestly so sweet of him <strong>it’s Jack’s answer to Gavin’s ‘helpful’ answer of ‘milk and sugar’</strong>), they’d done some test shots to find the most interesting angle, then dialed in the camera settings, done the maths for how many shots to take – Gavin had let Jack handle that, because Gavin and maths don’t mix – and then they’d begun the time-lapse.</p><p>
  <strong>Embarrassing admission: I’d heard of time-lapses before, had <em>watched </em>them before, but it wasn’t until I actually looked up what you had to do for one did I learn that time-lapses actually involve taking a lot of <em>pictures </em>over time – rather than <em>filming</em> continuously over time – before speeding up the footage.</strong>
</p><p>The camera has a built in intervalometer, so they don’t have to manually time the shots out, but they take turns checking the camera every few minutes to make the sure the battery is good, the card isn’t full and that the camera hasn’t moved on the tripod. <strong>Even now I look at the word ‘intervalometer’ and go, ‘huh’? I hope this use of terminology wasn’t alienating...</strong></p><p>Jack comes back from one such check, sitting close to him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, and that’s when he asks:</p><p>“So, what else have you worked on?”</p><p>“Sorry?” Gavin asks, looking over at him. They’d been quiet for a couple of hours in a comfortable silence. <strong>I grappled with whether Gavin would actually be able to be quiet for that long – he’s been characterized in AH fics as someone who can’t stand silence, and it fits him, but at the same time I felt as though Gavin wouldn’t want to exhaust conversation too early, and they’ll be here for hours anyway, because time-lapse.</strong></p><p>“I was just thinking about it, and we’ve nearly finished this project,” Jack begins.</p><p>“We have, haven’t we,” Gavin says. Jack had mentioned on the way here that he’d edited most of the film over the weekend, that he’d just need to add tonight’s clips to it and then they’d be done. <strong>It’ll be mentioned in chapter 3, but I deliberately kept post-production – editing – short, both because I didn’t want to overwhelm with details and because the story is from Gavin’s POV and Gavin isn’t editing.</strong></p><p>“And I was wondering what else you’ve worked on,” Jack adds.</p><p>“What do you mean, like other uni projects, or – ?”</p><p>“Outside of uni,” Jack says. “I’ve edited most of the film and I can tell you right now that you’re way too good at cinematography to not have had experience outside of uni.”</p><p>
  <strong>At this point, I intended for Jack to have a very specific perception of Gavin. Brilliant cinematographer, smart and sharp and <em>confident </em>in speaking up to call Jack out on his bullshit. That’s what he did at Rudy’s, and it’s how he’s been the entire project. It’s rare that someone is so <em>singularly </em>cinematographer; even the pushy cinematography students have at least a bit of director in them. But in Jack’s eyes, Gavin’s pretty much the perfect cinematographer.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>But Gavin’s not a monolith. And that’s what Jack’s about to learn. </strong>
</p><p>“I haven’t, though,” Gavin says, a little shamefully. It’s one of the things he doesn’t like talking about, how he hasn’t had essential work experience in the field. “Wouldn’t be at uni if I did, would I?” <strong>A hint to the common debate of film school vs no film school.</strong></p><p>Or at least, he wouldn’t have flown to Austin on an impulse if he had.</p><p>Jack stares at him, then seems to accept it. “What did you do for your other uni projects, then?”</p><p>Jack looks like he’s genuinely interested in the answer, but Gavin doesn’t know how to tell him that everything he’s made is completely mundane. <strong>Them talking things out in Rudy’s was an exposure of Jack’s vulnerabilities; here is the exposure of Gavin’s – of the <em>mundane.</em></strong></p><p>“What films did you make? What did you learn from them? I mean, you picked up your skills from somewhere, surely,” Jack continues, and Gavin gives him a confused look, because learning? “You’re a really good cinematographer; you know what you’re doing. I looked over the footage and all the shots you planned barely require anything to be fixed in post. It’s like you knew exactly what would make things easy on the edit and then shot them in-camera.”</p><p>“I just did it a lot,” Gavin says, because that’s the only answer he has. <strong>Because that’s all he <em>could </em>have done. He often feels like he’s floundering, in that sense. </strong>“Got a lot of group assignments, and I usually do the cinematography for it.”</p><p>Whenever they didn’t give him a battlefield promotion to director or producer or screenwriter because those people just didn’t show up, or if they didn’t shovel him aside to do the cinematography themselves, or both, that is.</p><p>Jack stares at him, like he’s waiting for Gavin to say more, but there’s nothing much else he can say, really.</p><p>“What were they about, the films you made?” Jack asks.</p><p>Gavin shrugs. “The usual. Hands slamming alarm clocks, people running around, that sort of thing.” <strong>Vague and all-telling at the same time.</strong></p><p>Now that he thinks about it, he can barely remember most of the films he’s made. He can remember the lenses he used, the types of reflectors he set up and sometimes the lights he used. But other than that…</p><p>“I don’t really remember,” Gavin says. “They’re on my computer, so I can get them out and stuff. But usually all I know about a project is that I need to film this thing and make it look good.”</p><p>Jack stares at him in disbelief.</p><p>
  <strong>This is the moment Jack realizes that maybe he’s put Gavin on a bit of a pedestal. That just because Gavin’s a good cinematographer doesn’t mean everything has been all roses. Sure, he knew that Gavin had worked with a lot of bad people but he had no idea that it was bad enough to the point where Gavin <em>literally didn’t remember </em>the underlying projects. Like, in all of Jack’s terrible projects, of people having to be convinced by lecturers to work with him, even he hasn’t experienced that.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And he could tell Gavin was so singularly cinematographer, but he hadn’t realized that the fundamental role of a cinematographer – film stuff and make it fit the story – was literally the only thing he <em>did </em>remember.</strong>
</p><p>“Most people don’t care about a coherent story, or coherent anything, really,” Gavin adds. “Usually I’m just glad I get given shit that I can do – like moving lights around and stuff – or whenever people are willing to meetup for stuff.”</p><p>“So, you just…picked stuff up, as you went along?” <strong>Instinctive, not meticulous. And just because it seems easy or less effort doesn’t mean it <em>is.</em></strong></p><p>“I guess so,” Gavin replies, because that’s the only thing he could have done. “Why are you asking?”</p><p>“I just like talking with people, about what they’ve learnt in the industry, the things they’ve picked up,” Jack says lightly. It’s too easy, <strong>it’s optimism, </strong>like he genuinely thought Gavin would have something to offer. It’s all the things Gavin had thought film school would be and suddenly he doesn’t like it.</p><p>“All I’ve learnt is student film clichés and how bossy people can get,” Gavin says, more resigned than he’d intended. It’s too much like disillusionment, <strong>it’s pessimism, </strong>of dreading going to a set because he never knows if any of the crew would actually show up, much less get even one usable clip after seven hours on set, and then the camera batteries need to charge up. <strong>A final cheers to the video ‘every student film set’.</strong></p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jack says, giving him a sympathetic look. “Still, the more you do it, the quicker you get at it, so it’s not all bad.” <strong>Basically he’s saying that you get the growing pains of filmmaking out while at uni.</strong></p><p>“Yeah. And it’s okay,” Gavin says, because none of this is Jack’s fault. “This project is the first time it hasn’t been like that,” he adds, because Jack needs to know that.</p><p>“That’s good,” Jack’s lips upturn in a small smile. “Once you break into the industry, I’m sure you’ll get to work on bigger projects that’ll really test your cinematography skills.”</p><p>He says it earnestly, like Gavin’s success is a certainty, and Gavin has no idea what to say to that.</p><p>
  <strong>Jack believes in people, even when they don’t believe in themselves. In working with Gavin, he’s come to admire him so much, and I wanted that admiration to be clear. Having someone genuinely believe in you – to have seen your work and be so confident in you, to stand by you and support you – there are no words for that.</strong>
</p><p>“What about you, what other projects have you done?” Gavin finally asks, latching onto Jack’s mention of industry.</p><p>Jack nods eagerly. “I worked as a first assistant director on a short film over the summer,” he begins, emphasizing the position, and suddenly all Gavin can think of is all those students bragging about the extra work they did, and he’s steeling himself to hear the same story all over again, from the one person he had grown to not expect something like this from –</p><p>
  <strong>I grappled with whether Gavin’s apprehension here was actually warranted, given the intensity of them talking things out at Rudy’s. But Jack talking about the project with reverence was something I’d planned from the start. I was originally going to incorporate it during a lunch/dinner break while filming, but there was nowhere in those sections that felt right, so I’ve put it here instead.</strong>
</p><p>But Jack speaks about the project with reverence. It was a piece about a house near a forest, he says, and he talks about how admirable all the people on set were. About how crafty was a top priority, about how they had an experienced sound recordist who showed Jack the importance of good sound and the difference between shotgun and lav mics. About how he’d go to lunch with the crew and ask them all sorts of questions about how their equipment worked; the more technical side that he didn’t get privy to as a first A.D. . How the generosity and flexibility of the cinematographer showed him that there are many ways of getting good shots without shelling out excessively on gear.</p><p>
  <strong>I also debated whether Jack should even have experience at all. After all, the main thing mature aged students have going for them is ‘experience’, and wouldn’t it be interesting if Jack didn’t have any at all? Just another way he doesn’t fit into uni. But I also didn’t want give off the impression that part of why Gavin respected him was because Jack literally didn’t have any experience to brag about in the first place, nor leave open the possibility that he <em>could </em>become braggy in the future. So instead, I decided a summer internship via a lecturer would work. Coincidentally, this perfectly fits in with the, ‘smug because they filmed a couple of amateur projects all by themselves last summer’, which was one of Gavin’s initial fears about Jack.</strong>
</p><p>It’s beautiful, the way he speaks of it, and Gavin wants to be like that, to be so appreciative of a project. He tells Jack that, and neither of them know who’s more surprised by the admission.</p><p>
  <strong>When I first came up with Jack’s optimism, I was concerned that it would come off as too sappy or unrealistically positive. But the more I wrote this story, the more I realized that a lot of the time, it’s tough being so positive, yet it’s something that’s needed lest we lose our heads (like Gavin has).</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>That being said, there’s a line about the film industry where you’re expected to be nothing but busy and grateful, and never ever complain, but positivity as a concept isn’t a bad thing, is what I’m trying to say.</strong>
</p><p>Thing is, Gavin has spent too long being burnt and jaded from shitty group projects, getting wrapped up in the motions of it all; start project, not know what’s going on, turn up on set, film random thing, repeat. <strong>Gavin’s skepticism in the first scene of the story </strong><strong>goes beyond just terrible group work; it’s been a destruction of the joy he finds in filmmaking. </strong>But when working with Jack – and hearing him speak about the stuff he’s done – it’s easier to remember why he came to film school in the first place.</p><p>It’s about telling stories, about using film as a form of self-expression for the things its creators are burning to say.</p><p>Jack tells him that with every project he does, he keeps a production journal, including for uni group projects. That he learns something new with each one and writing it all down is his way of keeping his feet on the ground.</p><p>“What have you learnt from this one?” Gavin asks, without really thinking about it.</p><p>Jack gives him a considering look. Gavin stares back at him, thinking <em>why did I ask that, that sounds vain, doesn’t it</em>, but he’s interested to see how Jack will answer. <strong>Whether he’ll just give easy answers or empty platitudes.</strong></p><p>“How to think on the fly,” Jack says. “How to keep my head on straight, how to prioritise and condense shots, different ways to light people. Using light to silhouette subjects; I’ve never seen that before, and the effect it produced is beautiful. I’ll have to show it to you in the film before we submit it.”</p><p>“Wow,” Gavin marvels, because now that he thinks about it, all of it is true. And now that he thinks of it, he’s learnt a lot from Jack too. <strong>And he needs to let him know that. </strong>“I’d love to see it. But I’ve learnt a lot from you too. That being organized is so important. That all the little things like paperwork and crafty and triple-checking we have extra SD cards is just as important as getting good shots. That communicating is important. I’ve worked on so many shitty projects that I’d forgotten what it’s like to actually talk with someone.”</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin’s realization of how important organization is while filmmaking is a parallel to myself, actually. I knew nothing about filmmaking before writing this fic, and I was under the impression that it was all about fancy cameras, because isn’t that what most YouTube videos are about – reviews of the latest camera and all that?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>But the more I looked into the pre-production process, the more I realized that it’s so much more than just cameras and shooting the footage – so much more than even the script. It’s production design and make-up and crafty and permits and sound and SD cards and storyboards and shot lists and location scouts and the people who keep all those people on track (producers and first assistant directors). And the more I looked into it, the more I realized how <em>valuable</em> someone as meticulous and organized as Jack was. It was important for me to show that, which is why what Gavin learns from this project is all based on organizational stuff.</strong>
</p><p>“That’s good. I’m glad,” Jack smiles at him. There’s warmth and softness in his features, and suddenly the moment feels too intimate, through the points of contact where they sit thigh to thigh, shoulders pressed together. <strong>Romance! *cheers* Though this was the first time I referenced the fact they were sitting close together since Jack first sat next to him again, which in retrospect was a while ago, whoops. </strong>“I suggest that you write it down. It’s good to remember these things. It’s easy to get lost.”</p><p>Gavin hesitates, then pulls up the Notes app on his phone and jots it all down, because why not?</p><p>It’s a lot, when he reads it, but all of it is true. Maybe making films is worth it yet, he thinks, catching Jack’s smile in the corner of his eyes. <strong>I wanted it to be clear that Jack <em>inspired </em>Gavin’s re-enjoyment of filmmaking, but I also didn’t want Jack to magically fix all of Gavin’s problems.</strong></p><p>“Never learnt this much from a group project,” Gavin lets out a short laugh, putting his phone away. He’s suddenly overcome with the urge to lay his head on Jack’s shoulder, but he doesn’t want to make Jack uncomfortable. “Got plenty of war stories, though.”</p><p>“Want to tell me about them?” Jack asks softly.</p><p>His eyes are gentle and bright, and so, so beautiful, and their faces are so close as the wind whips around them. He doesn’t move away, and Gavin realises that if Jack’s not comfortable with it, if there’s something wrong, he’d tell him, or stiffen up, or something. That they’d talk things out. They’ve worked together long enough to know that, at least.</p><p>
  <strong>I knew from the out-set of this scene that I wanted Gavin to lean his head on Jack’s shoulder, but Gavin’s also pretty reserved about romance. I wondered: what would make it plausible for him to initiate that touch?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin realising that they would talk things out, no matter what. Because at its core, this story is about communication. Of growing – <em>evolving </em>– together because they learn to communicate better with each other. It ended up being one of my favourite lines in the entire fic.</strong>
</p><p>So he shuffles closer to Jack, just a little thing to test the waters. <strong>Throwback to when Gavin tentatively proposed ideas for their project. That time, he was reaching out for project-stuff. This time, it’s for romance-stuff. </strong>When his shoulders remain slack and he doesn’t shrug him off, Gavin hesitantly lays his head on Jack’s shoulder.</p><p>Jack puts his arm around him almost immediately and pulls him closer. They take a few breaths together, getting deeper with each one, puffs of air drifting away into the night. Gavin sags into Jack’s broad shoulder, into his warmth and solidness, and it takes him a minute to remember what Jack had asked him. <strong>They’re cuddly guys, so I imagine they’d get lost in each other’s gentle touch.</strong></p><p>“Yeah,” he murmurs into Jack’s shoulder. “But only if you tell me yours too.”</p><p>Jack breathes out, and Gavin is hit by the smell of late-night coffee and the slight scratch of Jack’s beard as he rests his cheek on Gavin’s head. Out here, under the night lights of Austin, things feel easier, lighter, and Gavin wishes this night could last forever, the two of them out here together. <strong>Woo romance yeah. Also, multiple senses woo.</strong></p><p>“Of course,” Jack whispers, just as softly. “But I’d like you to go first. So, what’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened on set?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. BTS: Post-production</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They end up staying there until sunrise, sharing stories. Laughter, a lot of it, as they regale tales of woe, and sympathy at all the times they’d gotten screwed over by their ‘teammates’, whether that be by no-showers or no-planners or only-pushy or all of them.</p><p>At some point, Gavin had wrapped his arms around Jack’s torso to snuggle closer to him, and Jack’s arms had enclosed him in a warm, comfortable embrace. <strong>I’ve always loved the physicality of Jackvin. Like, Jack could literally engulf Gavin, like a giant teddy bear. </strong>At another, Gavin had closed his eyes, drifting off to the steady beat of Jack’s heart under his arm, and he’d awoken to the Beatles playing out of the tinny speaker on Jack’s phone and his thumb on the volume button <strong>ayyyye throwback</strong>.</p><p>Gavin laughs at the absurdity of it, at how it was exactly like the last time he’d fallen asleep in Jack’s company, and the way Jack smiles at him makes his heart pound in his chest. <strong>I wanted this to feel cozy and intimate, a definable moment where they fall deeper in love with each other. The kind of thing you look back on years later and go, ‘yep, that was the moment I knew’. </strong>They untangle themselves from each other, and it hits him that neither of them had checked the camera since they’d started sharing stories.</p><p>The camera had remained steady the entire night and the SD card is only half-full, so it’s fine, and they both heave sighs of relief. Still, Gavin doesn’t think either of them would have minded coming out here again; they’d been too comfortable resting their heads together, and checking the camera again would have interrupted the easy air between them.</p><p>They swing by a Waffle House for coffee and breakfast <strong>I realise that they could have gotten crumpets here, yet it isn’t addressed until later…uh, so just assume they got pancakes or something?</strong> then Jack drops him off back home. Gavin crashes until dinner hours, because screw lectures that aren’t compulsory, he needs his sleep.</p><p>
  <strong>I was originally going to have Gavin skip the lecture for cinematography, but then I realized that I’d set that weekly lecture to a Monday and that they filmed the time-lapse on a week<em>night </em>after uni, so it wouldn’t be possible. Hence this more generic line about skipping non-compulsory lectures.</strong>
</p><p>He wakes to a text from Jack, asking whether they can meet since he’s completed the first version of the film and he wants them to watch it together. After double-checking the time and day, he stares at his phone incredulously, because if Jack’s completed the film then that means that he stayed up all night filming the time-lapse, drove them back afterwards, <em>and </em>edited the film without getting any sleep. So, he texts him back:</p><p>
  <em>Gavin: Get some sleep, you mug.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jack: Are you available to watch the film or not?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gavin: I am, but only after you’ve gotten some sleep.</em>
</p><p>There’s no reply for a while, and when ten minutes go by with nothing, Gavin puts his phone away. Hopefully that means Jack has taken his advice and gone to sleep.</p><p>Gavin has dinner in the neighboring residence hall, then goes to the editing rooms to work on an assignment for another class. <strong>I wanted to hint at uni life so it didn’t appear to be out of the blue later since I wanted to explore uni and college as a whole during this chapter. </strong>It’s two in the morning when he emerges, only to be met by a text from Jack.</p><p>
  <em>Jack: Sorry, I fell asleep. When are you next available?</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>I deliberately didn’t do much research for post-production, lest I (and the story as a result) get bogged down in details. I figured that it made sense in the scope of the story because cinematographers do their work in pre-production and principal photography, and I used post-production in the story as a transition into the romance.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Still, I didn’t want to miss the chance for Gavin to learn more about filmmaking from Jack along the way.</strong>
</p><p>Editing is usually a necessary evil. It’s tedious, time-consuming work. Usually it’s a get in, sync audio, sync video, get out kind of situation, and people only truly care about the editing when it’s bad.</p><p>Jack thinks differently.</p><p>He asks Gavin all sorts of questions he’d never really considered. Like whether the shots chosen progress the story; when to show things that need to be shown – the flash-drive, mainly – and when to withhold them; whether key elements of the film stand out enough; whether the intended emotions of the film come through.</p><p>To him, it’s not just about <em>is this palatable</em>. To him, it’s <em>does the story flow well </em>and <em>are the shots too long or too short </em>and <em>does it communicate our ideas the way we intended it to?</em></p><p>Until now, Gavin hadn’t known that there <em>was </em>so much to editing, even though he’d taken a video editing class last year. They’d done a lot of green-screen then, and how to name their folders for ease of collaboration.</p><p>But Jack is both sharp and patient, and soon enough Gavin is pointing out some changes they could make; mostly in the order of the shots, and of some light color correction to make the flash-drive appear more vibrant as the film goes on. Jack keeps track of continuity, and he ensures that they have everything required in the brief.</p><p>Four hours later, they finish editing the film. They export it, submit it for marking, and upload it to Vimeo as required.</p><p>Afterwards, they open their uni emails and in their inboxes, there’s a confirmation receipt saying <em>Thank you for submitting your Major Project for RTF 343D – Cinematography.</em> <strong>I’d like to thank my own university for emailing confirmation receipts upon submitting assignments to the faculty, as it alleviated at least some of the stress from uni. I don’t know whether they do this at American universities (let alone University of Texas, which is the uni I was trying to emulate in this fic – including RTF 343D, the subject code for Advanced Cinematography), but I figured that I could take some creative liberties with it, because –</strong></p><p>They’re done.</p><p>They’re finally fucking <em>done.</em></p><p>Gavin can hardly believe it. He lets out a whoop. <strong>Whoop whoop!</strong></p><p>“Shh, don’t wake the neighbours!” Jack whispers, but he’s grinning, so he can’t be too upset about it.</p><p>“It’s only midnight – never mind, it’s two in the morning,” Gavin says loudly then quietly as he looks at the clock on Jack’s oven.</p><p>Jack giggles, and soon Gavin’s giggling too.</p><p>“I can’t believe we’re done,” Jack breathes, reclining back in his chair, shoulders coming down as his grin widens. “We <em>did</em> it.”</p><p>He says it with such wonder and pride and joy and suddenly Gavin wants to dive into Jack’s arms to celebrate. <strong>I did worry that it would appear quite impulsive, but they literally cuddled each other to sleep the night before, so this was about as good as it would get.</strong></p><p>“Can we hug?” Gavin asks it impulsively, before he can lose his nerve.</p><p>Jack’s eyes brighten and his smile gets impossibly wide. He stands up and opens his arms. “Of course.”</p><p>Gavin runs up and jumps into his arms. Jack scoops him up with his strong arms and Gavin throws his arms around his neck. They cling to each other, and at one point Jack lifts him clean off the ground. Gavin lets out a surprised noise, then laughs, letting himself get swept up in Jack’s embrace. <strong>I may or may not have a head-canon where Jack carries Gavin everywhere in whatever way they feel like. </strong>It feels good, like a celebration; not just the end of something, but the start of something new. <strong>*sings the song ‘Start of Something New’ from High School Musical terribly*</strong></p><p>Eventually, they pull apart, though their arms linger around each other. Gavin tilts his head back to look up at him, and Jack is beaming down at him. <strong>I know their height difference is small (1.5 inches), but I can dream, right?</strong></p><p>“Let’s celebrate?” Gavin murmurs.</p><p>“It’s two in the morning.”</p><p>“Want to go to Waffle House?” <strong>I wanted this to be like those late-night runs to places, the ones that end up being all romantic and stuff.</strong></p><p>Jack pulls back, tilting his head to the side, giving Gavin a considering look. He doesn’t say anything for so long that Gavin’s about to ask again, but then Jack grins and says, “You know what? Fuck it, why not.” <strong>=D</strong></p><p>They giggle their way to Waffle House and sit down for crumpets. Jack makes a joke about Gavin and <em>crumpets and tea and biscuits, how posh, </em>and Gavin teases him about his shitty northern English accent and that if he really wanted to be accurate he’d need to do a southern English accent instead.</p><p>They end up talking about British TV shows, and when Gavin finds out that Jack hasn’t even watched Monty Python yet, he insists that he show it to him, it’s <em>essential </em>watching. <strong>Monty Python is a British classic, and I figured that if anyone was American enough to have not seen it, it would be Jack. </strong>That just because they’ve finished the project, doesn’t mean they have to stop meeting up. That meetups can become hangouts instead, that they could become friends if Jack wants them to.</p><p>
  <strong>I grappled with this for a bit too – the idea that Gavin immediately offers friendship to Jack. Would he be brave enough to offer that? But then I thought of everything they’ve been through, and also how Gavin has managed to stay in touch with all his other friends and figured it’d be appropriate for Gavin to initiate things in this context. Especially since if he didn’t, Jack certainly wouldn’t, and <em>someone </em>had to put their foot down, lest a stalemate.</strong>
</p><p>“Are you sure? I mean, I’d love to, but what about hanging out with your other friends?” Jack bites his lip.</p><p>Gavin’s about to reply but at the last second, he sees Jack shake his head a little, like he wants to say something more, but is holding it back. So Gavin waits. <strong>Patience, communication, all that good stuff.</strong></p><p>“You don’t have to – Gavin, it’s okay, you don’t have to hang out with me or anything. The project’s over; you’re not obligated, you know that, right?” Jack continues. “I don’t – I don’t want your pity.” Jack swallows, suddenly looking very unsure of himself. <strong>He’s being honest about his doubts, and it’s tough to do. What if Gavin ‘reassures’ him out of obligation rather than genuinely wanting him around?</strong> “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hang out with me just because you know I don’t have any friends.”</p><p>“It’s not that,” Gavin says firmly. “It’s not <em>just</em> that, at least.”</p><p>He thinks of a night in the cold, of blue lights, of the city skyline. Of telling stories into the night. Of all the times they’ve talked in Jack’s car, of all the chats they’ve had about non-project things, and how he wants more of that.</p><p>“I want to hang out with you. I want get to know you – well, more,” Gavin begins. It’s hesitant, full of apprehension, but Jack watches him steadily, wide-eyed. Gavin is about to say more – explain himself more – but suddenly the words dry up on his tongue, and now he’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “Yeah, I just. Want to get to know you more,” he finally fumbles out.</p><p>It’s inadequate, but that’s all Gavin can manage for now.</p><p>“Okay,” Jack breathes out.</p><p>
  <strong>This is Jack taking a leap. In trusting that Gavin does genuinely want to spend time with him outside of the project. After all, ‘I want to get to know you more’ is pretty vague. <em>Reasons </em>for why he wants to get to know him would have been more helpful, but I deliberately wanted Gavin to not be great with words, so.</strong>
</p><p>Under the fluorescent lights of Waffle House and the exterior of a dark morning <strong>I was trying to emulate how scene headings in scripts start with things like ‘EXT – Car park, Night’ but didn’t quite get there</strong>, Jack’s eyes are open and honest and soft, lips upturned in a smile. Gavin wants to reach out and cup his cheek but knows that he can’t – or rather, he shouldn’t.</p><p>But he vows to himself that he’ll show Jack just how lovely he really is, and he’ll do that by being his friend.</p>
<hr/><p>They watch Monty Python in Jack’s apartment after uni, then Jack shows him some old school comedies. It’s not Gavin’s type of humor at all, but he’s riveted in how Jack talks about all the actors, the behind-the-scenes stuff, how sitcom lighting all looks the same because they use a multi-cam setup rather than single-cam.</p><p>They move onto movies, a mix of good and bad, and during a bad one Jack notices that a mic got into the corner of a shot, and it quickly descends into them critiquing everything about the production of the bad movies, from bad cinematography to bad editing to random mic packs on actors’ belts.</p><p>They game, too. Jack turns out to be just as meticulous in video games as he is in real life, and they end up playing Minecraft split-screen, with Jack going off to build houses and Gavin bringing creepers with him to blow them up. Jack curses up a storm at him, and Gavin just giggles, scurrying away as Jack’s character whacks him down a mine shaft.</p><p>It’s not all messing around though; they race to see who can complete the extreme levels in Trials Rising first, and Gavin delights in Jack banging his controller against the coffee table – if he’s not falling off the level himself, that is.</p><p>They play other games too, and Gavin finds Jack to be a fairly serious person who prefers building and farming but is more than happy to go on adventures with Gavin whenever he asks.</p><p>One night, as Jack drives him home, they talk about how Gavin ended up in the dorms, and what he likes about living there. The convenience of food, the rec room, how his dorm building is next to the editing and production suites. Jack says that it sounds like a nice experience, and that’s how Gavin asks him whether he’s ever lived in the dorms or not. Jack tells him that he hasn’t, had never even applied for them, because he didn’t think he’d ever fit in. Gavin ponders it out aloud, saying that the dorms are mostly filled with first-years straight out of high school, so while it would have been more difficult, there still could have been a chance that he would have found people he could be friends with, people who would have understood.</p><p>
  <strong>This is where I started to address the big thing I wanted to explore in this story: college life in general, and how feeling isolated from others can have such a strong impact on it. They may be chasing their dreams by doing to film school, but this Jack doesn’t feel comfortable about chasing everything – including life in the dorms. But even when you’ve accepted the decisions you’ve made and come to terms with them, there’s still the wondering, the ‘what ifs’, whether things could have been different (better) and I wanted to embody that.</strong>
</p><p>There’s something extra distant yet wistful in the way he looks up at Gavin’s residence hall when he pulls up next to it that night, and when Gavin asks him about it, he says that he’s never been inside the residence halls either, not even on an open day. That sometimes he wonders what it would have been like to get that part of the college experience; whether he would have spent time in the rec rooms, whether he would have talked with the people here. Whether he really would have made some friends if he’d decided to just go for it despite his misgivings.</p><p>Gavin tells him that he still can if he wants to. But Jack shakes his head, saying that he would probably withdraw into a shell if he tried now because everyone is so different to him, and that he enjoys living on his own. Gavin understands that, but Jack’s eyes linger too long on the pool table, the widescreen TV and the sofa in the rec room, and that’s when he comes up with an idea.</p><p>The next time they hang out, Gavin invites Jack to the rec room for a game of pool. <strong>Because he wants to give Jack that experience he never got the chance to have. </strong>After clarifying that Jack – who is definitely not a resident of the dorm building – is allowed in after-hours, Jack is more than happy to come over. <strong>Because Jack’s not the kind who is willing to risk doing things even close to illegally.</strong></p><p>They play several games of pool together to the TV playing music videos, a mix of 90s and modern music. Gavin barely knows what the hell he’s doing and Jack Strategizes, grinning at Gavin as he masterfully sinks yet another ball, to Gavin’s increasing disbelief. <strong>Jack is a strategic guy, so having him play pool Very Seriously seemed both fitting and humorous.</strong></p><p>At some point, one of them starts singing along to one of the songs on the TV, and after that it descends into terrible karaoke as they play another game. <strong>It’s AH, terrible singing is imminent =D </strong>It’s just the two of them, everyone else having gone out to the bar downtown for drinks, and the rec room comes alive under Jack’s deep timbre and the chink of pool cues hitting balls as they crow out <em>Mr Blue Sky</em> together <strong>it’s neither a 90s or a modern song, whoops</strong>. They laugh a lot, and at some point, they put down their pool cues and start dancing goofily around the room together. Gavin does all sorts of idiotic moves, and it’s worth it for the way Jack cracks up laughing at every single one.</p><p>Gavin doesn’t think he’s ever had so much fun in his life.</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted this part to feel fun and vibrant, like falling in love, like finding themselves after being lost. I also just liked the idea of them having fun together like this. Like a night at the bar but it’s just them and shouting’s not required for conversation.</strong>
</p><p>Eventually, everyone comes back from the bar. Michael, his boi and roommate, and Fiona, who rooms with some first-years, stride in, and their grins are way too devious for Gavin’s liking. <strong>I was originally going to have them say to Gavin like, dude, you’re so gone for Jack (hence their deviousness here) but I didn’t put it in for pacing reasons. </strong>Still, it’s a good chance to re-introduce Jack to them, but soon enough it’s time for Jack to go back home. Gavin asks him whether he’d be up for gaming sessions with the rest of the group in the rec room, and Jack seems surprised, but says that he’s okay with it.</p><p>There’s a bit of apprehension there, a similar kind to how Fiona was when Gavin first introduced her to the rest of the group. The kind where someone wants to be part of the bigger group but finds larger groups intimidating and work better with one-on-one interactions. It makes sense with Jack; he’d seemed more comfortable when it was just Geoff or just Lindsay and Jeremy rather than the whole group. <strong>Fiona’s always been great with one-on-one interactions and so has Jack. When I realized that link I was like <em>oh</em> this would work great, so that’s what I did. It was also a way of incorporating Gavin’s I-saw-this-thing-and-it-reminded-me-of-other-thing-ness again.</strong></p><p>So the next time they hang out, Gavin starts small. At first, he invites just Jeremy and Fiona, both of whom are good at one-on-one stuff and aren’t currently swept up in other assignments. Jeremy cajoles Jack into using his purple and orange Xbox controllers and Fiona and Jack somehow switch everything to Tetris.</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin is being meticulous about introducing Jack to his friends whereas Jack is more instinctive about the situation (comparatively speaking, he’s going along with the flow, having interactions come organically rather than meticulously thought out – even if most of them are waiting to be approached by others first). It’s a role reversal of how they’d been during the project, where Jack was meticulous and Gavin more instinctive.</strong>
</p><p>A few more hangouts with just the four of them, and then Lindsay joins in whenever she isn’t rehearsing for an end-of-semester play, bringing Michael and Matt along later on. Matt’s easy-going and chill, and Michael’s no-nonsense attitude balances everything out nicely. A while after that, Gavin brings in Trevor and Alfredo. They mess around with Jack in the same way Gavin does <strong>it’s getting a bit dusky in here</strong>, and Jack sighs but laughs it off, knowing that they’re just teasing. And Geoff goes in and out whenever he has major articles due, but it’s nice when he’s around too.</p><p>They all welcome Jack with open arms <strong>we love wholesome and supportive AH</strong>, and as they meet up more, Gavin watches Jack slowly become more confident around the group. He tends to stick close to Gavin, something oddly vulnerable to it, <strong>wanted to emulated Jack sticking closest to Geoff IRL for a long time again </strong>and it takes him a while to initiate conversations on his own with the others. But he’s been lightening up since he started hanging out with the group, and Gavin couldn’t be happier for him.</p><p>Gavin makes sure to spend time with Jack individually as well, not just during their lecture or their computer lab. <strong>That’s another part of Gavin being meticulous about Jack’s social integration into the group. But even though this is from Gavin’s POV, it’s glossed over because to him it’s – well, instinctual for him to do that. </strong>They game or watch movies in Jack’s apartment, or drive through the city after uni singing along to the music on Jack’s phone.</p><p>On one such night they stop off at a field to watch the stars. They’re about an hour out of the city centre, just off the highway. They lay side-by-side on the grass and they talk about their days.</p><p>Jack has a group assignment for his directing class, where they have to block a scene in four different ways <strong>cheers to Filmmaker IQ’s video, ‘How a Director Stages and Blocks a Scene’ for showcasing how direction and blocking can change the same script into completely different scenes (e.g. police-procedural as: a comedy, a rom-com, a CSI-investigative)</strong>. It involves a lot of fancy camera movement, like using Steadicam and gimbals, and Gavin offers to help him out with it. Jack says that he appreciates the offer, but one of his group members specializes in cinematography, a semi-shower who refuses to do anything else.</p><p>Gavin lets out a big <em>oof </em>at that, because he knows a thing or two about getting shoveled aside by someone who wants to do the cinematography all by themselves, and he tells him about an assignment he has for photography. One for shooting outdoors, actually, and he should have brought his camera because this is a nice field out here, isn’t it? <strong>It always seems to work like that, doesn’t it, like you bring your camera everywhere to non-photogenic places, then the one time you don’t you end up somewhere amazing.  </strong>Jack offers to bring him back here another night if he wants, and after double-checking to make sure it’s okay <strong>Gavin doesn’t want to pawn off of Jack</strong>, Gavin says that it would be great.</p><p>They settle into a comfortable silence. Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin sees that Jack is watching the stars, but it seems like he’s not really looking at them, as though he’s lost in thought. The moonlight paints his features into something ethereal, and his body is warm next to Gavin’s. They’re laying so close to each other that if Gavin turned to his side, he’d be nose-to-nose with Jack. The thought makes his cheeks heat, and he hopes that it’s not obvious in the moonlight.</p><p>“What made you interested in going to film school?” Jack asks.</p><p>
  <strong>This conversation is a continuation of the stuff they talked about during the time-lapse. Expanding the scope of the conversation (film group project to film school as a whole) was my way of escalating the ‘drama’.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin ponders the question. Even though they’d talked about their degrees before, it’d been about lecturers and assignments for other classes, trying to find out what classes they’d done before and how they hadn’t run into each other earlier. It’s mostly been Jack sitting at the front of each class and Gavin getting swept up in other groups before he could have noticed Jack, and Gavin’s always been an oblivious one anyway.</p><p>But what made Gavin interested in going to film school in the first place?</p><p>“I like filming stuff,” Gavin says, finally. It feels inadequate, but that’s all he really has. <strong>I feel like such a succinct and vague yet all-encompassing answer is very Gavin, and embodies his very singular cinematographer mind-set. He doesn’t have ‘noble reasons’ like ‘I <em>need </em>to make movies’, or ‘I’ve loved movies my whole life’. I think he feels self-conscious about that, because film school is expensive (especially as an international student) and if not even the typical pipe dream reasons apply…</strong></p><p>In the past, he would have proudly said <em>the chance to work with like-minded people, to make connections, to learn new things</em>, but things hadn’t turned out like that, had they?</p><p>“Any other reasons?” Jack asks gently. He looks empathetic, like he knows all the reasons Gavin hasn’t said, but wants to double-check, to make sure he’s not jumping to conclusions.</p><p>
  <strong>Importantly, Jack doesn’t chide Gavin for not being great with words. He’s encouraging Gavin to open up more without being pushy about it, without demanding Explanations when Gavin doesn’t have any. He <em>accepts </em>Gavin for who he is, is patient with him, is understanding.</strong>
</p><p>“Not really,” Gavin shrugs. “Just the usual ones, like making connections and ‘making mistakes in a sandbox’,” he recites, because <em>that’s </em>something he remembers from lectures, about the benefits of film school. “Turned out differently though, didn’t it?”</p><p>“I don’t know, has it?”</p><p>Gavin’s confused at first, because the casual way he says it implies that he knows that they are two of the few justifiable reasons for going to film school in the first place and that they end up being unmet expectations instead. But there’s also something questioning to it, a reconsideration that pulls Gavin up short. It’s as though Jack thinks that Gavin has actually done both, and Gavin needs to correct him because whatever Jack thinks of him, those aren’t things he’s managed to do.</p><p>
  <strong>Film school vs no film school is one of the most hotly debated topics. Those against film school cite the exorbitant prices for film school, how it’s cheaper to make a movie than ever (smartphones, free editing software), all the info is online anyway, you can use the internet to network instead of paying thousands of dollars to do so, the closed uni environments, the lack of actual filmmaking classes (e.g. film students have to take tons of maths, essay-writing and generalist courses – at least at UT), and how being a film <em>student </em>is very different to being a film<em>maker</em>. Those for film school cite – well, industry connections and making mistakes in a sandbox.</strong>
</p><p>“It has,” Gavin says. “I haven’t gotten experience outside of uni or gone on any internships, which is the whole point of making connections. And the ‘sandbox’ is just green-screen studios, student film clichés and whatever we can scrounge up for free.”</p><p>“That’s not a bad thing,” Jack says. “You get the growing pains of filmmaking out at uni. You get to learn what works and what doesn’t. Getting what you can for free shows you how to be resourceful and that you don’t have to have millions of dollars to make a good movie. As for internships, you just have to keep trying until someone gives you a chance.”</p><p>“How did you get yours, anyway? The one you did over the summer? Not so that I can pawn off of you, or imply that you’re only useful because you’ve had previous experience,” Gavin adds hastily, because he doesn’t want Jack to think – like some mature aged students do – that he’s only as useful as the work he’s done outside of uni. <strong>That was important for me to note, because I do worry that some people feel that way, and that’s not true at all. </strong>“Just – I’m curious. Most of the people that I’ve worked with haven’t had the chance to work on a real film set. That if they had, they wouldn’t be here; cheaper and quicker, and your foot’s already in the door, you know? Usually they’ve gotten together with their friends and filmed some random thing over the summer then realized that they wanted to do it more but didn’t have the contacts. But your project sounded like an organized, official film set.”</p><p> “Asked one of my lecturers in first-year directing,” Jack says it firmly, but then he pauses, biting his lip. “He’s a good guy, and I know it’s not a bad thing to ask the lecturer – may even be necessary, at this point – but it still feels kind of sad, that my first network comes from talking with a lecturer rather than making connections and friends at uni. What if I hadn’t had that lecturer? What if that lecturer had said no?”</p><p>“Then you would have asked your other lecturers until you got something,” Gavin answers immediately, because he can tell that Jack has that kind of determination, that resilience and persistence <strong>being able to stick around long after anyone else would have given up. </strong>“You would have found a way. Besides, friends and connections are all based on being in the right place at the right time. What if I hadn’t met Geoff, or Lindsay, or Michael, or anyone else in the group? What if I hadn’t met you? Things would be very different.”</p><p>Jack looks over at him, something like awe on his face. “They would,” he says. “But I’m glad I met you.”</p><p>“I’m glad I met you too,” Gavin says earnestly, because it’s true. “It’s all about getting experience, isn’t it? Doesn’t really matter with who or where from, all that.”</p><p>“With <em>whom</em>,” Jack corrects him lightly, because he’s always been a pedantic one. <strong>I wanted Jack’s pedantic-ness again, but to use it in a light-hearted manner to show that it’s not always a bad thing, and it’s a spot of humour in a serious conversation. </strong>“I guess not. It’s just…I thought I’d have a network of close-knit friends, but apart from you I haven’t really met anyone. I thought of joining the filmmakers group at uni…but I didn’t do that at the start of first year, so it’s too late now.”</p><p>
  <strong>I deliberately characterized Jack as someone who felt like if he didn’t join things right at the start – dorms, clubs, friendship groups – he’d feel like he was too late, out of the loop. Especially because he takes so much longer to pick things up than others. If he comes in at the <em>start </em>he still takes too long – to him, if he comes in late, there’s no chance he’ll adapt.</strong>
</p><p>“It’s not too late,” Gavin insists, because he needs to get it into Jack’s head that it’s never too late for anything. “You just have to find people who understand, and that’s not based on how far you are in the degree or how old you are; it’s a mentality thing. I’m not part of the filmmakers club either. We could join it together, if you wanted. At least then we’d have a friend in each other?”</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted to really drive it home that despite the massive separation between mature aged students and school-leavers, age doesn’t actually matter. We all have our different struggles, a bunch of which happen to be grouped with mature aged students (e.g. married with kids, redirecting career), but at the end of the day we’re all at uni for the same reason: to learn shit. Uni is already such a struggle, and it saddens me that mature aged students struggle so much because they just happened to get into things a little (or a lot) later in life. But I’m not entirely sure I did the concept justice…</strong>
</p><p>Jack blinks at him for a long moment. “Are you sure? What about all your other commitments, and all your other friends? How did you meet them, if not at a filmmakers club?”</p><p>“Of course I’m sure. I’m offering, aren’t I? I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t mean it. Sure I have a lot of group projects and stuff, but I’d like to do more practical work and all our friends are busy too so I’m sure they’d understand. Maybe with you around the practical work will actually be fun.”</p><p>“It…hasn’t been?” Jack asks. <strong>Jack knows Gavin’s war stories with past group assignments, but I think he’s more shocked at how…blatantly open and casual he is about his dissatisfaction with the supposedly fun part of filmmaking.</strong></p><p>“Not really. Waiting around for hours on end doing bugger all is real fun,” Gavin says sarcastically.</p><p>“Other group projects, right,” Jack nods, no doubt remembering the war stories Gavin had shared with him a while back. “How did you meet your other friends, anyway?”</p><p>“Michael’s my roommate; he introduced me to Lindsay, who does theatre. I met up with her after an improv class and she introduced me to Jeremy. Jeremy introduced me to Matt and Trevor, and Trevor introduced me to Alfredo. Geoff, I worked on a group project with him. Fiona joined my residence hall last semester and we became friends there.”</p><p>“That’s good,” Jack smiles. “They’re all great people. Thank you for introducing me to them.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Gavin says. “You deserve it. It’s the least I could do.”</p><p>“I’m just a film student, same as you,” Jack says modestly, and he has no idea how special he is, does he?</p><p>“But that’s the thing,” Gavin begins, because he needs to explain it. “You’re not just another film student.” He turns to face Jack. Their faces are inches apart, and Gavin can feel Jack’s breaths across his cheeks as he looks at him with something more attentive to it. “I’ve been thinking about it, and our project had the smoothest production I’ve ever experienced even though the workload was so much higher, all because of your meticulous organizing and scheduling and planning; because of all that work we did in pre-production. I realized that everyone needs a first A.D. and producer, you know? But no-one wants to be that. Everyone just wants to be cinematographers and directors. <strong>Like how in the game Team Fortress 2, the spy character is who everyone wants to be but hates to see, and the medic character is who no-one wants to be but loves to see.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>Well, creatives don’t <em>love </em>(or even like) to see first A.D.s and producers, but still. There seem to be way, way more budding cinematographers and directors than first A.D.s. or even producers. And support class is valuable and necessary yet commonly disregarded.</strong>
</p><p>“But you gotta keep people organized, you know? Otherwise you start forgetting things, what you’re really here for.”</p><p>The last part comes out choked. Gavin had been thinking over what he’d admitted to Jack while filming the time-lapse together – how he barely remembers any of the film sets he’s worked on – and out here under the stars, with the grass and Jack’s breaths tickling his face, he feels even more vulnerable.</p><p>But Jack’s eyes are soft, and he reaches out to cup Gavin’s cheek. Gavin exhales in relief at the comforting touch, pressing his forehead to Jack’s. <strong>This was me trying to show that Gavin was a bit oblivious, because Gavin hesitated over cupping Jack’s cheek at Waffle House <em>yet Jack literally does that </em>and not for a second does Gavin think, ‘oh, he likes me back =D’, even though cupping someone’s cheek is pretty intimate.</strong></p><p>“Yeah,” Jack breathes into the air between them. “We always need to remember that. I was talking with Jeremy earlier, about how easy it is to get wrapped up in it all, to get lost in the tiny details and not remember the bigger picture.”</p><p>They both scoff a laugh at the unintended pun. Jack’s breath is warm and if Gavin leans in any closer, they’d be touching lips.</p><p>“But not everyone’s like you, Gavin. Most of the time, people only care about the directors and cinematographers,” Jack whispers. “No one notices the first A.D., or even the producer – unless it’s about securing money for stuff, of course.”</p><p>
  <strong>The idea behind that statement is that we talk about movies like, ‘That person directed it,’ or, ‘that person starred in it,’ and even though we usually don’t know the cinematographer’s name, we can at least look at a movie and be like, ‘wow, the images on screen look pretty and/or fit the story.’ (note that they don’t necessarily mean the same thing).</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>How many times have you watched a movie and thought about the first A.D., or the producer for things other than funding? I haven’t, and most people don’t either. The <em>logistics </em>of making films are essential yet get completely swept under the bridge. It’s very literally support class, the role Jack always plays in video games.</strong>
</p><p>“That doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” Gavin murmurs. “Filmmaking isn’t a vacuum, is it?”</p><p>
  <strong>More than anything, I learnt that filmmaking is a <em>collaborative </em>process, and is a collaborative process for a reason. Gavin’s just wording it oddly, because Gavin.</strong>
</p><p>Jack’s eyes slip shut. “That’s true. But that’s not what most of the students seem to think.”</p><p>
  <strong>Remember how Gavin feared that Jack was nothing but an uptight buzzkill? Thing is, in many ways, producers and first A.D.s <em>are </em>a creative’s buzzkill. They ask the hard questions like plausibility and budget and that can stifle creativity. For instance, ‘we can only afford one location’ but your script consists of four or more.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Producers/first A.D.s very literally set the boundaries within which the story can be told. That causes a lot of conflict with creatives. It’s herding sprinting cheetahs, of reeling in tunnel vision, it’s having to reduce the creative’s vision while retaining what made the original idea appealing in the first place.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Not fun. I imagine that wouldn’t go down well with students who aren’t producers or first A.Ds themselves. The ones whose mentalities consist of things like lol logistics we’re making a <em>movie </em>not doing <em>paperwork</em>, we’re doing something <em>fun </em>we’re not here to be <em>restricted.</em></strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>But filmmaking is a collaborative process, and <em>every </em>role is needed for a reason.</strong>
</p><p>“Well, uni isn’t forever is it? I know we have to work with them eventually, but sooner or later everyone will be chucked out into the real world, and productions out there are much more than just students in closed environments,” Gavin says, smiling at him when Jack’s eyes fly open in shock, staring at him, seeming to think it over. “Maybe the other students are like me; maybe they didn’t realise the benefits of a producer and first A.D. until it was already handed to them. But now that I know, I have a much greater appreciation and respect for those roles. Films would fall apart without them.” <strong>I have a much greater appreciation for such roles too.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>You know how high school isn’t for forever? Uni isn’t, either. Thing is, we’re told in high school that uni is the goal. Once you get to uni everything will sort itself out. So we end up with lofty expectations of uni. When those too-high expectations are inevitably unmet, we end up feeling like failures because uni wasn’t this perfect, magical experience. Uni was supposed to be the be-all, end-all. Instead, I’ve peaked in high school – never thought I’d be one of those people.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>For those who have difficulty relating with their peers, there’s fear that if you can’t even fit into the seemingly perfect environment closed away from the real world, what hope could you possibly have in the real world?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>I think Gavin’s recognized that Jack has that fear, recognizes that he’s become disillusioned with uni as a whole, feels like a failure because of all the ways his square peg doesn’t fit into the round hole. So he reminds him of the bigger picture (coincidentally like he did during their project): that life goes on after uni, that just because things didn’t work out in uni doesn’t mean you’re a failure in life.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>It’s beautifully discussed in bestdressed’s YouTube video, ‘My College Experience (ucla film school)’. It’s something I’m grappling with myself, is something I hoped readers could relate to.</strong>
</p><p>“Films would fall apart without good cinematographers,” Jack murmurs. “Which is what you are.”</p><p>Gavin scoffs out something like a laugh, and Jack’s eyebrows furrow.</p><p>“Why do you find that so hard to believe?”</p><p>“What is?”</p><p>“That you’re a good cinematographer.”</p><p>“I really don’t know, do I?” Gavin shrugs. “You keep saying that I’m good, but I honestly have no idea if I am or not. I just pick things up as I go because that’s all I can do. You can teach any person how to operate a camera or set up lights, but you can’t teach someone how to organize stuff, or look for the little things.”</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin saying you can teach anyone how to operate a camera is a reference to some answers I found to online debates about film school vs no film school, saying to not bother with film school and just cold-call a list of local production companies for open positions as unpaid boom mic operators or camera operators or similar low-end grunt work, citing stories of 18 year olds who started there and are now making their own films, instead of spending thousands of dollars at film school and learn next to nothing of practical value.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Basically, you can teach anyone who learns things quickly how to operate a camera. Organisation skills – the oft-coveted <em>soft skills </em>– can’t be taught at uni, and that’s what Gavin’s referring to. Or at least, not many people would want to go to classes on it. Imagine walking into class and the lecturer saying, “Hello everybody, and welcome to Organisational skills 101,” “Excuse me, organizational is spelt with a z.”</strong>
</p><p>“You pick up on that kind of stuff up too, the more you do it,” Jack says. “And you are a good cinematographer. You set up shots like they’re nothing and make adjustments based on different conditions like it’s breathing. Something that I’ve learnt is that if you can learn quickly and work hard, then you’ll do just fine.”</p><p>It’s something Gavin had read online, on reddit posts asking, <em>Should I go to film school? </em>But this is the first time he actually, genuinely believes it. <strong>Believing in something for himself. </strong>Because Jack has seen him work, and he picks up on a lot of things others would miss.</p><p>“Thanks, Jack,” Gavin murmurs. “You’re a really good first A.D. and producer. And director, for the record. That’s another thing for the book, right? Of things I’ve learnt. Of things that you’ve learnt.” <strong>Growing! *confetti*</strong></p><p>Jack smiles softly, hand squeezing Gavin’s cheek. “It is.” <strong>Jack’s wanting things not just for Gavin, but for himself, too. Through their project, Jack has started to believe in himself again.</strong></p><p>Gavin nuzzles into the touch, and Jack hums.</p><p>They settle into a comfortable silence, breaths mingling, heads pressed together. It takes a while for Gavin to process everything that’s been said, but then he finally circles back around to Jack’s first question.</p><p>“Why did you decide to come to film school?”</p><p>“Same reasons as you,” Jack says. “To learn how to make films, to make connections. I’ve always loved movies, so making them seemed like a natural choice. Took me a while to figure that out, though. Worked for a few years first, just in shitty office jobs and retail. I knew after a while that that’s not the kind of work I want to do for the rest of my life.”</p><p>Gavin nods. It’s a familiar story, one that he can relate to himself. “I’m the same. I love filming things, love seeing them come to life. I can’t see myself doing anything else. But it’s hard to break into the industry, and having uni debt on top of that doesn’t help either.”</p><p>Jack gives him a considering look. “Sure, but at the end of the day, it’s a combination of making luck for yourself, being able to pick up stuff quickly, being willing to work hard and knowing the reality of what you’re getting yourself into.”</p><p>Gavin considers this. It’s…all true. It took until the end of his first semester, but Gavin had realized that career prospects for the next few years would be eighteen-hour days for months at a time as an unpaid personal assistant, camera operator, or some other low-end grunt work. It’s a harsh reality, but it’s one he’s slowly been getting more comfortable with, however grim that seems. <strong>Boy howdy is it grim. Especially on indie film sets, which can turn from Perfectly Fine into Trainwreck very quickly. An example of which is beautifully explored in the video, ‘i made a movie. it stunk.’</strong></p><p>He tells Jack this, and to that, Jack says:</p><p>“Then you’ll be just fine. We’ll both be just fine.”</p><p>They fall silent again. There’s a light breeze tonight, but as the night has gone on it’s gotten colder and colder. They stay pressed together for a little longer, but then Jack’s pulling away and standing up, saying that it’s late and they should get back home for some sleep. <strong>It’s meant to refer to Gavin telling Jack that he needs to sleep, and Jack following that.</strong></p><p>Jack helps him up, and afterwards, Gavin realises, rather abruptly, how empty and cold he feels now that Jack’s not touching him. <strong>Jack’s also a human furnace, so…</strong></p><p>And as Jack drops him off that night, Gavin realizes, somewhat belatedly, that he’s fallen for him. <strong>Dun dun duuuun.</strong></p><p>
  <strong>But seriously, no shit dude. You cuddled yourself to sleep in his arms, jumped into his arms and wanted to cup his cheek while having breakfast with him. And your cheeks heated when you thought he might be able to tell you had a crush on him. Like, come on, man =P </strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>Here’s the thing about Gavin and dating.</p><p>
  <strong>The whole first, second, third, thing was a shoddy attempt at the blurb from the book Twilight (which I have not read, but I did read an incredible Twilight AU for a different fandom, so that counts, right?).</strong>
</p><p>First, it’s rare that Gavin finds anyone who can put up with him long enough to become friends, much less a date.</p><p>Second, Gavin doesn’t go on dates. Between uni, friends and filming stuff, he doesn’t have the time. <strong>He’ll make time for those he cares about, though, e.g. joining filmmaker’s group with Jack.</strong></p><p>Third, he really likes Jack, like <em>really, really </em>likes him, and they’re friends now, and he doesn’t want to screw this up.</p><p>So he doesn’t say anything about it, keeps his feelings to himself. He tries not to get so starry-eyed whenever Jack rambles on about cinematography with breath-taking passion. He tries not to be too eager as he fires back with his own thoughts and they end up debating about composition. He tries not to read too much into the delight in Jack’s eyes whenever they play video games or watch movies or drive around together or hang out with the rest of the group.</p><p>And then the last lecture for the semester rolls around and suddenly Jack’s tapping him on the shoulder and after Gavin looks up from the cat video he’s been replaying on mute, he’s greeted by a folded piece of paper and Jack biting his lip. <strong>Last time, Gavin was initiating. This time, it’s Jack. It’s another role-reversal, going from project to romance. In this note-passing scene, I wanted to emulate the beats of the last one.</strong></p><p>Despite the first time Gavin had turned up to their lecture, they’re not normally ones to pass notes to each other. Most lectures involve Jack fastidiously writing down notes and Gavin watching videos on mute between typing down dot points.</p><p>So Gavin slowly takes the note and, when Jack gestures at him to read it, Gavin unfolds it.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>*Can I talk to you after the lecture? I need to tell you something.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Gavin’s brain short-circuits.</p><p>He has no idea what Jack could possibly need to tell him. Maybe he wants to ask about the exam? But then he would have said that he needed to <em>ask </em>him something, not tell him. <strong>Gavin’s attentive to detail too. </strong>Maybe he can’t make it to Lindsay’s end-of-semester play next week? But then he wouldn’t be writing notes like this; he’d just tell him, or text him, or something.</p><p>Still, whatever Jack needs, Gavin’s up for it. <strong>In this way, Gavin is reliable and dependable – traits usually associated with Jack. </strong>So, he writes:</p><p>
  <strong>*Sure. Is it a big thing or small thing?</strong>
</p><p>Jack hesitates, then he finally writes:</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>*It’s a big thing. What I want to tell you…I want you to know that you’re under no obligation or anything. We can talk things out.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Gavin furrows his eyebrows, because he’s not sure what Jack means, but he’s already turned back to his note-taking, and Gavin decides to wait.</p><p>The lecture ends, but Jack doesn’t move.</p><p>“There’s no class after this, it’s fine,” Jack manages a nervous smile, and Gavin wonders just how big this <em>something </em>of Jack’s is.</p><p>Gavin nods and sits back in his seat. But as the rest of the students file out, Gavin grows more and more concerned at the tenseness in his features, the way he’s clasping his hands together like they’ll give him courage. For what, Gavin doesn’t know, but he waits with him.</p><p>Finally, the lecturer leaves and it’s just the two of them in the room. Jack worries at his lip, and Gavin looks away, thinking that maybe if they’re not eye to eye then it would ease Jack’s nerves.</p><p>“Gavin – ” Jack says, and Gavin turns to him. There’s something determined in his eyes now.</p><p>
  <strong>Jack has loved Gavin for so, so long, for all the reasons he’ll explain later. In this moment, he’s scared, terrified more than anything that he’ll lose his closest friend. The one person who believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself. The person who has taught him so much. The person he has grown with. The person he wants to keep growing with.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>And confessing is scary, but not confessing is even scarier.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>He wants to take that chance.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>He’s ready.</strong>
</p><p>He pauses, and Gavin nods at him to continue.</p><p>“I like you. As in, I have a crush on you,” Jack blurts out suddenly. <strong>Dun dun dun duuuuuuun.</strong></p><p>It takes a while for the words to register. Gavin stares at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. And when it finally hits him –</p><p>Oh.</p><p>That’s.</p><p>A very big Thing. A very big thing indeed, and –</p><p>He’d just come outright and laid all his cards on the table, and –</p><p>Gavin likes him a lot too, and he needs to say it, but the words have disappeared from his mouth, and –</p><p>
  <strong>I wanted Gavin’s thoughts to be fragmented like this, to show that his brain’s short-circuited. That he doesn’t really know what to say. To him, this has come completely out of the blue. There’s a world underneath the few words Jack has said, and Gavin knows it. Gavin likes him too, more than he ever thought he could like anyone, but he’s never really been good with words, and I wanted to communicate that.</strong>
</p><p>Jack’s starting to shift awkwardly now – “Gavin, I know it’s sudden, it’s okay if you don’t like me back – ”</p><p>“I do,” Gavin blurts out. He swallows, and the words come easier now that he’s dropped the ball. “I like you too. A lot.”</p><p>Jack stares at him for a long moment. “You do?” he asks, finally.</p><p>“I do,” Gavin nods, smiling softly at him. <strong>*sings ‘I Do’ by Colbie Caillat*</strong></p><p>“How long? When? Sorry – that sounds vain,” Jack fumbles out, and Gavin nearly laughs at the absurdity of it, but he knows that Jack is nervous too. <strong>Gavin nearly laughing here is a reference to Gavin asking Jack what he’s learnt from their project and thinking that it sounded vain.</strong></p><p>“Since – I don’t know when, actually,” Gavin says, as he tries to think it over.</p><p>Was it the night they filmed the time-lapse? Was it when they were playing pool? One of the times they played video games together? That time they had lunch at Rudy’s? When they scouted the park and side-streets? When they poured over the script of their project together?</p><p>The first time Jack asked for his opinion, back in his dining room?</p><p>“All of it. None of it. I don’t know,” Gavin finally says. “But a long while. Maybe even the first time we met up. I – I wasn’t sure if you’d ever like me back. I didn’t want to mess things up.”</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin can’t roll out love confessions on instinct like Jack can. In that sense, Gavin is meticulous about his socializing, as opposed to Jack’s instinctiveness.</strong>
</p><p>A nervous and relieved laugh rushes through Jack’s lips. “I didn’t want to mess things up either.”</p><p>Jack hesitantly reaches over and covers his hand with his. Gavin sighs in relief, turning his hand over and squeezing Jack’s hand. It’s large enough that he can’t squeeze all of it with his smaller hand, but Jack doesn’t seem to care, and his hand is warm and soothing and <em>nice. </em><strong>I have this image of Jack’s hands completely dwarfing Gavin’s, and them holding hands is one of my favourite things about Jackvin.</strong></p><p>“I’ve had feelings for you for a while,” Jack says. “I liked you from the start. You’ve never treated me differently because I’m a mature aged student, or because I’m older. But it’s not just that.” He scoffs out a disbelieving chuckle <strong>a reference to when Gavin comforted Jack in his dining room of tattered scripts. </strong>“You talk with me <strong>we communicate</strong>. You’re patient with me <strong>you give me time to gather my thoughts before speaking</strong>. You encourage me <strong>e.g. to be my producer/first A.D. self</strong>. You never expect anything from me, not even the answers to questions on a project <strong>e.g. an immediate answer to audio for a two-person crew</strong>. But you don’t take my shit, either <strong>e.g. tunnel vision at Rudy’s</strong>. You’re the first person I’ve felt comfortable with since I came to uni <strong>I don’t have to pretend to be youthful when I’m not, I don’t have to pretend to be a director-type when really I’m a producer/first A.D. type, I don’t have to pretend to know about raising kids when I don’t have any, I don’t have to pretend to not like video games, or that I’m good at shooters. I don’t have to <em>hide</em>, with you</strong>.”</p><p>“Jack…” Gavin strokes the back of Jack’s hand with his thumb, fondness for Jack bursting out of him.</p><p>“It’s true,” Jack says, squeezing his hand. “I…I’ve always felt out of place here. I just didn’t have a lot going for me. Then you came along. You were so great during the project, and then after it was over you reached out to me and we became friends. And all your friends have become my friends too, and that’s because you gave me the chance to get to know them individually. I realized that, not only are you the smartest person I’ve ever met, but you’re also the most wonderful, funny and charming person. And all along, you’ve heard me out, no matter what.”</p><p>
  <strong>I imagine that Jack would have become very detached from uni. Just go through the motions, and looking forward to heading home for the holidays. But then Gavin reached out, like a sprouting plant trying to kiss the sun. During the project and afterwards. He recognizes how meticulous Gavin was when introducing him to his friends, how <em>personalized </em>it was to Jack connecting one-on-one better than in big groups, because Jack reads situations well and if there’s one thing he notices, it’s attention to detail.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Gavin has been reliable, and steady, and patient – things that people usually expect from Jack, things Jack hadn’t known he needed himself. Yet Gavin has been all those things, unconditionally, without ever expecting Jack to be the same. It’s novel, not having any expectations placed on you. And Gavin’s funny, and joyful, and makes him laugh.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Of course Jack fell in love with him.</strong>
</p><p>Gavin kisses him.</p><p>Jack kisses him back passionately, wrapping his arms around him tightly, and Gavin’s climbing into his lap before he knows it.</p><p>Or he would have, if there wasn’t the damn chair arm in the way.</p><p>They laugh, pulling apart. Gavin maneuvers his way around it, Jack keeping one hand on Gavin’s waist, and once Gavin’s standing in front of him they go back to kissing, exploring each other languidly as Gavin settles on Jack’s lap. Jack’s hands splay across his back, and Gavin’s swept up in the feeling of Jack’s lips against his, the depth of his kiss. He feels like he’s flying, like he could stay here forever, but at some point they have to break apart for air.</p><p>“So, do you like me back, or…?” Jack asks. It’s light, but with a hint of tentativeness to it, like Gavin literally kissing him wasn’t clear enough <strong>tbf, Jack gave Gavin a love song, and he only said, ‘I do’</strong>, and Gavin huffs fondly and pecks him on the lips.</p><p>“You absolute cheesecake, of course I do.” <strong>I imagine Gavin says it so fondly that there’s no doubt in Jack’s mind that Gavin likes him back =).</strong></p><p>Jack laughs, joyous and bright, and he takes Gavin’s hand again, squeezing it tightly. Gavin squeezes it back, and the two of them leave the lecture room together, hand in hand.</p>
<hr/><p>(Later, Gavin tells him of all the ways he’s fallen for Jack too. How he communicates more – <em>cares</em> more – than anyone he’s met. How hard he works, how he cares about all the little details. How he’s fun too. <strong>Gavin’s not so great with words, so his confessions require meticulousness more than instinct, but Jack deserves to hear them, no matter how fumbled out they sound, no empty platitudes, because all of it is true.</strong></p><p>And a week later, after their final exams, they go to Lindsay’s end-of-semester play with the rest of the group. They end up cuddling and holding hands together the whole show, and everyone in the group playfully teases them for it before throwing them a party in the rec room.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you guys have enjoyed this DVD commentary =). I've nearly finished the Jackvin lighthouse keepers/island caretakers AU, so that should be out in the next couple of weeks. Feel free to chat with me on tumblr (tumblr: booshlagoosh).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>